


Come Hell or High Water

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Pencey Prep, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, M/M, Neighbors, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 52,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3282044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Literally every night," Frank complained, "I'm gonna kill someone if I feel the thumping of drums through my floor again."<br/>"I'm going to kill you if you call me at four am again," Ray retorted.<br/>"I'm not gonna stop until they stop and that doesn't seem like it's ever gonna happen."<br/>"You'll just have to talk to them then."</p><p>In which Frank lives above Fall Out Boy's favourite practice spot, and eventually decides to consult them about the constant noise coming through the floor at ridiculous hours, but instead ends up befriending the band and meeting the guy who lives below him and lends his apartment out for practice each night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was ill and bored and was messing around with music edits, figured out how to make a next door edit, and then this just happened.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank eventually decides to talk to his neighbours that keep him up every night.

I sighed as I heard the heavy beat of drums being played below me, rolling out of bed, knowing I wouldn’t get anymore sleep now because it wouldn’t stop for at least another hour, and the noise would wake me up enough to ensure that I won’t be able to get back to sleep when it finally finishes. I made my way into the kitchen and proceeded to make myself a cup of coffee as I glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall. 4am. _Why?_ Practically every other night the fucking band that must live below me would practice at some ungodly hour, as loud as their amps will let them. I’ve got to admit, it wasn’t bad music, and I’d probably be really into them. If they didn’t wake me up at four fucking am. The coffee machine pinged, and I poured myself out a cup, then sat down at my small kitchen table. I could see my coffee shaking from the noise, and I tried to ignore the fact that they were playing way too loud way too early, and instead tried to focus on their pretty awesome guitar riffs. Maybe I should talk to their guitarist and we could jam a bit. Or not. Maybe instead I could pluck up the courage to go downstairs and tell them to _shut up_. Maybe it was a mistake to move into an apartment building that was mainly full of old women. That’s probably why they played so loud, because everyone’s too fucking deaf to hear them. Except _me_.

I reach over to the counter and pick up the phone, knowing one person who’d be awake right now that I can complain to.

“They’re practicing again?”

“Yeah, it’s _way_ too loud.”

“I thought you liked their music?”

“Yeah but its four am, Ray, _four am_.”

I could hear his soft laugh through the phone, “Why don’t you go talk to them?”

“What if they’re just deliberately being dicks though?”

“I doubt it, no one’s that mean.”

“You have too much faith in the world, how can you be this loud, by accident?” I questioned, holding the phone close to the floor so he can hear the excessive noise coming from the apartment below.

“Okay, that’s pretty loud, but it’s cool music, maybe you could join the band.”

“By the sounds of it they already have enough people, and I’m already in a band, remember, dumbass.”

“Whatever, anyway, you could make some more friends, you need it.”

“Ha ha ha,” I said sarcastically, “you should count yourself lucky you’re one of my only friends. I’m a pleasure to be around.”

“Sure,” he replied, just as sarcastically, “go talk to them, I need to go, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” I replied, sighing and throwing the phone down on the table.

Okay, I give up. Ray’s right, I need to talk to them. I need sleep. And probably more friends. One of the two, at least. I quickly switched my pyjama bottoms for some jeans, and stomped down the stairs, not that they could hear me, and knocked as loudly as I could on the front door, trying to forget that on top of my jeans, I was wearing some old t-shirt and a loose cardigan, and I had dreadful bedhead which probably meant my hair was sticking up in a thousand different directions.

I tried knocking again when no one answered, but there was still no reply, so I slowly pushed open the door, slightly disappointed that it was unlocked. Inside, it was just as I expected really, except from the guy’s appearances, ‘cause I wasn’t really sure what I expected. On one side, there was the typical living room furniture, just shoved to the wall, to make room for multiple amps and a drum kit, and on the other there was a small kitchen and table. The guy on the drums was covered in tattoos, like, even more than me, and had short, dark hair and a pretty impressive ginger beard. The guitarist had short but curly hair and was head banging along with the bass player, who had short black hair and both of them were pretty covered in tattoos, but nowhere near as much as the drummer. Then the singer, who _fucking hell_ had a better range than I’d ever heard, looked like he shouldn’t even belong to the band. He had light brown hair, mostly hidden by his hat, and he was completely pale and free of tattoos, and was _even shorter than me_. Which, by all accounts, was pretty fucking amazing.

As soon as I’d stepped into the room all four of them froze and stopped playing.

“Shit,” the bassist said, taking off his guitar and propping it against a wall, “did we wake you up?”

“No shit,” I mumbled, trying to fix my hair, which was probably a dead giveaway to the fact that I’d been asleep no more than ten minutes ago.

“Sorry,” a voice said from the other side of the room, coming from a guy I hadn’t spotted before, and fuck he was hot, and his guilty smile made my anger melt away instantly. He was as pale and tattoo-less as the singer, but had a mess of bright red hair on top of his head. “I lend them my apartment to practice, I thought only deaf old ladies lived here,” he told me, looking guiltily down at the floor and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Its fine, just _four am_?”

The guitarist with the hair shrugged, “It’s an inspirational time.”

“You can stay and watch if you want,” shorter-than-me singer suggested, “I’d offer to stop but we’ve got a gig tomorrow and we’ve really gotta practice the set list…”

 “It’s okay, I’ll watch,” I said, resulting in me being dragged by hot red head over to the sofa he’d been previously sitting on.

“I’m Gerard, by the way,” he told me as the other guys started setting up again.

“I’m Frank,” I told him in return.

“I’m really sorry, again, I thought no one cared about it being so loud, so I let them practice here cause my brother, Mikey, is dating Pete, the, uh, bass player…” he told me, nodding towards another guy that I hadn’t noticed, who looked vaguely like Gerard, and, not surprisingly, was talking to the bass player, Pete. I felt my heart drop slightly. If he brother was gay, it makes it less likely for him to be, right?

“It’s fine, seriously, and, uh, what are the others-”

“Oh right, that’s Patrick, Joe and Andy,” he told me, gesturing at each of them respectively.

I nod, “So why aren’t you in the band?” I asked as the band in question started playing again, raising my voice to be heard over the noise.

Gerard laughed, “I can’t play any instruments to save my life.”

“You’ve got a nice voice, I feel like you’d be a good singer,” I told him, and felt myself blushing slightly even though it was me giving the compliment and fucking hell I suck at flirting.

It was nothing compared to Gerard though, who was quickly turning the colour of his hair, “I sing a bit,” he admitted, not looking at me, “but I’m nowhere near as good a Patrick.”

“Okay, he has fucking amazing range,” I said as he goes straight from a note way lower than I could reach to a higher one than just about anyone could reach, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not _good_. I want to hear you sing sometime.”

“Only if you do something in return, why don’t _you_ sing for _me_?” he asks, finally looking up with a smirk.

“Please _no_. I suck. Honestly. You don’t wanna hear that shit. But maybe if you sing well enough I’ll play some guitar for you.”

“You play guitar?”

“Since I was a kid.”

“That’s awesome, do- Oh, god,” he said at the song transition.

“What?”

“Pete wrote this for Mikey and he never shuts up about it,” he explains, sticking his middle finger up at his brother who was sticking his tongue out at him from the other side of the room. I let out a short laugh but quickly cover my mouth when Gerard turns to look at me with wide eyes.

“Oh my god dude how much pot have you smoked in your life?”

“Oh god,” I said, covering my face with my hands to hide the fact that it was going bright red, “a lot, I was just like permanently high as a teenager and now I’m stuck with this annoying laugh.”

“I think it’s cute,” Gerard tells me, and I can feel my face flush even darker, but peek between my hands to look at him anyway.

“Really?” I ask, my voice muffled by my palms.

“Yeah,” he confirms, nudging into my side before pulling my hands away from my face, “dude your hands are awesome,” he says, looking at the tattoos inked over my skin, while I desperately try to hide the developing redness covering my face. This guy has the shortest attention span I’ve ever seen.

“What are these, like some kind of archaic symbols?” he asks, running his finger lightly across the letters written on the top half of my fingers, and I try not to shiver at the sensation. I link my fingers together, trying to ignore the fact that his hand is now resting on my wrist because I pulled away, showing him the word ‘bookworm’ written across my fingers.

“That’s so cool, and why Halloween? Don’t get me wrong, it’s an awesome holiday but-”

“It’s my birthday,” I explain.

“No fucking way, that’s like the coolest birthday ever,” he exclaims, finally moving his hand away and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

“It’s pretty cool,” I admitted.

After that, we lapsed into silence, watching the others playing, Gerard occasionally coming out with some random question about me every now and then. Who knew how he came up with these or how his mind even approached those subjects without a prompt.

“Hey, why don’t you come to the gig tomorrow…?” Patrick asked once they finished playing.

“Frank,” I say, realising that Patrick’s waiting for me to say my name, as I only really introduced myself to Gerard.

“Yeah you should really come, it’ll be cool, we can get you a backstage pass and you can hang out with Gerard and Mikey,” Joe says, collapsing on one of the sofas with a bottle of water.

“Maybe, I don’t know…” I tell them, it’d probably be best not to see Gerard two nights in a row; after not even an hour with him I was already fucking screwed.

“Come on, pleeease, it’ll be awesome,” Gerard begged, grabbing my arm and causing my breath to catch in my throat _again_.

I look over at Gerard, chewing on my lip ring uncertainly. I sigh, seeing his perfect fucking eyes staring at me through his goddamn hair. “Fine, if you insist.”

Gerard’s face instantly lit up with my agreement, “It’ll be awesome, don’t worry.”

I roll my eyes at him, “I need to get sleep now ‘cause you’re making me stay up tomorrow as well,” I tell him, and say goodbye to the others before slowly walking back up the creaking stairs, and collapsing into my bed, not bothering to change out of my jeans and falling asleep almost instantly.

 

 

 

“Please, Ray, you love concerts.”

“So? I don’t know them, and I’ve got a shit ton of work.”

“Pleeeeease,” I begged, “I can convince them to let you a backstage too, and they’re pretty cool guys.”

“You’re not gonna shut up about this, are you?”

“Not until you say yes.”

He sighed through the phone, “What did I tell you, if you went and talked to them you’d make new friends…”

Knowing coming from Ray that meant yes, I quickly blurted out, “Great, thanks, pick me up in like an hour,” before he could change his mind.

Now that I had Ray as backup and a ride, due to my not actually having a car. I needed to choose what the fuck I was going to wear. Sure, it was just a concert, and I went to tons of concerts, and could just pass with wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but I was seeing _Gerard_. And okay, I only met him last night, technically this morning, but I still wanted to impress him, even though I knew it was useless because 1) he won’t be into guys, and 2) he probably has a girlfriend because he looks like what he does. But, ignoring my rational mind, I made my way into my bedroom and pulled open the wardrobe, examining the clothes hanging up and thrown to the bottom of it.

 

 

 

I officially have no clothes. Absolutely zero. I swear I had clothes yesterday, where the hell did they go? I think back to this morning, when I first met Gerard. Oh god, I can’t believe I was half in my pyjamas. And my hair was probably a complete mess. Great first impression, Frank, you fucking idiot. At least whatever I wear now will look better than what I wore this morning. And with that thought in my mind, I turfed through my clothes again, trying to find _something._

Before I could find anything, Ray knocking on the door, fuck, I needed to get ready. I yelled out something that vaguely resembled ‘almost ready’, and grabbed the first pair of clean jeans I could see and pulled my legs into them. They were black and skinny, as usual, and slightly ripped at the knee. I grabbed a black t-shirt folded up in one of my drawers and quickly observed it. Ramones? Does Gerard like them? Probably, I decided as I quickly pulled it over my head and grabbed a dark grey hoodie as I made my way to the door, stopping at the mirror quickly in attempt to neaten up my hair a little, before pulling the door open and ushering Ray out of the way, locking it behind me.

“You look flustered,” Ray commented as we made our way down the stairs to where his car was parked.

“I just couldn’t decide what to wear so I had to rush.”

“You have like a crap load of clothes.”

“I don’t! I have zero, there was none.”

“I know you too well and I think I know exactly what’s going on,” he said smugly as we both slipped into separate sides of the car.

“Oh really?” I asked, looking at him and raising one of my eyebrows.

“Totally,” he said, starting the engine, “you have a big fat stinking crush.”

“I do _not_ ,” I said indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Who is it? Lead singer, drummer, bassist?”

“The bassist’s taken, actually.”

“That doesn’t stop you having a crush on him.”

“I can guarantee that I don’t have a crush on the bass player. Or any of the other band members,” Ray was on the right tracks, but I technically wasn’t lying.

He just rolled his eyes at me, “Sure you don’t.”

 

 

 

We got there a bit late, and it had already started. Ray blamed me for taking too long to get dressed, but it was actually ‘cause there was way too much traffic, but right now Ray was finding any way to make fun of me and the crush he suspected I had.

We made our way into the venue together, and I can’t say I wasn’t surprised by how fucking huge the crowd was. They were an awesome band and wrote awesome music, sure, but I didn’t realise they were _big_.

“You didn’t tell me these guys were popular,” Ray stated as we weaved our way through the crowd, sticking to one of the walls.

“I didn’t realise,” I told him, trying to drag him forward faster as I spotted a door that must lead backstage. We eventually reached it, and I gave my name to a scary looking guy, and he must’ve seen my look of shock when he let us in with only my first name, because he laughed and explained that he’d been instructed to look out for ‘a dwarf with tattoos and messy hair’, which just made Ray laugh as we made our way backstage.

We just wandered for a bit, not exactly sure where we were going, when I felt a hand grab my sleeve and drag me off to the left, and was thankful to see that Ray managed to keep up.

“You came,” Gerard, the owner of the hand, said, beaming at me.

“Yeah, I told you I would,” I said, trying to hide the colour rising to my cheeks at Gerard’s happiness to see me. “Oh, uh, this is Ray,” I told him, remembering my friend standing behind me, with a look of smugness that I really didn’t want to know the reason behind, “Ray, this is Gerard.”

“Hey,” Ray said, lifting his hand up in a small wave, the smugness not moving from his face.

“Hey,” Gerard said, waving back, “oh, one second,” he said, disappearing in the direction of Mikey, who had just appeared from one end of the room.

“What?” I asked Ray as soon as Gerard was gone.

“What what?” Ray said innocently.

“What are you so smug about?”

“You’ve got a crush on Gerard.”

“I do _not_.”

“You went fucking bright red just ‘cause he smiled when he saw you.”

“That doesn’t mean I have a crush on him.”

“It so _does_.”

“Shut up.”

Gerard reappeared, with Mikey and the band in tow.

“So you already all know Frank, so guys this is Ray, and Ray this is Mikey and Fall Out Boy.”

“So we’re not actual people to you anymore?” Joe asked sarcastically.

“I thought you guys were performing?” Ray asked, looking them all up and down.

“Just the support act right now, we’re going on in a second,” Pete explained.

“This is Pete, Patrick, Andy and Joe,” I told Ray, “because Gerard neglected to mention that.”

“Whoops,” Gerard said, smirking and looking up at me through his hair again. _Fuck_.

“Five minutes,” someone said to Patrick, before disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

“Nice to meet you, but we’ve gotta go, enjoy the show and we’ll see you after,” Patrick said, following the guy with the rest of the band.

“So where do you normally watch the show from?” Ray asked.

“Just by the side here,” Mikey says, leading them all to the side of the stage and finding a comfortable position leaning against the wall, watching the last song of the support act.

They finished eventually, not that they weren’t pretty awesome, and the guys made their way on stage from the other side, setting up quickly in the dark. Once they were done the room exploded in light as they started a song I recognised from hearing it numerous times through my apartment floor, and it was definitely better up close.

 

 

 

“What did you think?” Pete asked as they came off, all dripping in sweat.

“Pretty fucking awesome,” I told him, not bothering to conceal my grin. As reluctant as I’d been to come, I had had fun. And Gerard had talked to me all night, which was good but could also be bad. Mainly bad ‘cause this crush was developing way too much and Ray kept giving me looks and that means he’ll say something as soon as I’m alone with him.

“Do you want me to drive you guys home? You can pick up your car tomorrow,” Gerard said, since me and Ray had both had at least one beer while we were watching the show.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Ray said sincerely.

“We should all hang out at yours for a bit,” Pete suggested to Gerard and Mikey, “it can be a mini after party.”

“An after party for one concert?” Gerard asked sceptically.

“Where we watch bad horror movies and Pete stuffs his face with pizza and is way too close with Mikey for in front of their poor friends,” Andy said, making Mikey blush and Pete laugh.

“So, like every day?” Joe asks, making the others laugh.

 

 

 

They all arrive back at Mikey and Gerard’s apartment a short while later, minus Ray who said he had to get home ‘cause he had work the next day.

“What movie?” Joe asked, collapsing on one of the sofas, which were now in the centre of the room, unlike the other night.

“Just check the horror channel, I’m sure there’ll be something shit enough to suit our standards,” Gerard told him, grabbing the remote and throwing it at him from across the room.

“Who wants pizza?” Pete asked, pulling out his phone as I sit on the empty sofa, trying not to smile too much as Gerard sits down next to me.

All of us raised our hands as we sat in various places around the room, “Okay, who wants what then? Andy I’m gonna take a wild guess and say vegan,” Pete said, typing in the number for whichever pizza place he’d chosen. Andy doesn’t say anything, but gives him a thumbs up. “Everyone else good with two pepperonis?”

“I’ll share Andy’s,” I told Pete.

“You’re vegan?” Gerard asked from right next to me.

“Vegetarian.”

“I can order a veggie one, I wouldn’t recommend vegan pizza,” Pete suggested, pulling a face.

“Nah, it’s fine, really.”

“Well, if you insist,” Pete said, walking to the other room to order the pizza.

 

 

 

The pizza arrives quickly, and it’s gone within minutes, and we all settle down to watch some movie that Joe’s found with full stomachs.

“I see what you mean,” I said to Andy, gesturing towards Pete and Mikey who were currently curled up next to each other, and Mikey’s head was on Pete’s shoulder, even though he was definitely taller than him, and were sharing whispered conversations.

“Trust me, they’re normally even worse than this, it’s a good thing Mikey’s shy ‘cause Pete definitely isn’t, so he kinda stops Pete from being so bad.”

I laugh, and realise that we’re really the only two awake; Joe’s fast asleep and snoring, Mikey and Pete are still talking but both look very close to sleep, and Gerard’s asleep, his head tilting precariously towards me. I try to ignore the tiny and adorable snores coming out of Gerard’s slightly open lips, instead focusing on the movie, but it’s _so hard_. Especially when his head eventually falls, landing on my shoulder softly, but it doesn’t wake him. I try to shuffle away slightly, but I’m already next to the arm of the sofa, and I really don’t want to wake him up. I really should get up, this’ll just make my stupid crush even worse but he smells so fucking good and I love being able to feel the rise and fall of his chest against my arm.

 _Stop it_ , I tell myself, and eventually muster up the guts to slip out from underneath Gerard, and see that Andy has fallen asleep as well. I quickly grab a pen and paper off of the table and scribble out a note explaining how I went back to my own apartment, and place it where I was sitting next to Gerard and quickly sneak out, and back upstairs. I collapse on my bed, letting out a big sigh. It meant nothing. He was asleep. _Unconscious_. He wasn’t thinking, he literally couldn’t have been. So why was my mind so intent on over analysing the fact that only minutes ago Gerard had been asleep on my shoulder?

I fell asleep like that, thinking of him. I ended up dreaming of him too. I didn’t know exactly _what_ about him, but I knew it was him. And, fucking hell, was I screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Frank goes into the studio with Pencey Prep and sees Gerard (again).

I woke to the phone ringing distantly from the kitchen, who knew for how long it’d been going. I sigh and drag myself out of bed, slowly shuffled towards the direction of the phone, trying not to wince at my appearance as I pass the mirror. I flick the coffee machine on and grab the phone. 10 missed calls. Great.

“Where the hell are you?” a voice I recognise but am too tired to put a name to asks me down the phone.

“What? I’m a home wh-”

“You were supposed to meet us in the studio almost an hour ago you fucking idiot,” Neil. It was Neil.

“What do you- oh, shit,” I said, remembering that we’d been waiting forever to be booked into the studio and we didn’t have much time when we finally got some, so we all agreed we’d work as best and fast as we could. And now I’ve gone and fucked that up. “Sorry, I forgot, I’ve been busy and shit I’ll be there as quick as I can, start recording without me.”

“We have, Tim’s recording some drums right now but we’ll need you  _soon_.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, running back into my room and hurriedly throwing on any clothes I could find lying around, “I don't know how long it'll take me to get a taxi though,” I warned him while shoving one of my feet into a shoe.

“ _You don’t have a ride?_ ”

“Sorry, you know I can’t afford a car right now and Ray’s busy…”

Neil sighed before I could come up with any others excuses, “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Be ready,” he told me, hanging up the phone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumbled to myself, splashing water on my face quickly and attempting to flatten down my hair. I pour out a cup of coffee and run out the door with it in my hand, going down the stairs as quickly as I can without spilling it. I make it down to the bottom floor, and, seeing that Neil hasn’t arrived yet, sit on the front step of the building, and take a sip of my coffee.

I can’t believe I forgot, I’m such an idiot. They’re all gonna be pissed at me. I blame Gerard. He’s getting in my head, I can’t go five minutes without thinking about him, and now look where it’s gotten me.

Neil eventually pulls up in his battered car, and I jump into the passenger seat quickly, still holding my now half empty coffee.

“I don’t believe you,” Neil said, driving away as soon as I had shut the door.

“I’m  _sorry_ , okay? What else do you want me to say? There’s this band that always practices in the apartment below mine and they’re  _really_  fucking loud. I never get any sleep,” I wasn’t exactly lying, just avoiding telling him the fact that the main reason I didn’t get any sleep was because I had a huge fucking crush and couldn’t stop talking to the subject of my crush.

Neil just rolled his eyes at me, “Seriously, I’m really sorry, I won’t forget again.”

“Stop apologising.”

“Sorry, I mean, fuck, never mind.” At least that brought a laugh out of him, and I felt myself sigh with relief, the others weren’t as uptight as Neil about just about anything.

We arrived at the recording studio a short while later, and I apologised to everyone about a thousand times, but they all forgave me, and we continued on with the recording.

 

 

 

“Just one line,  _seriously_ ,” Tim said through laughter, into my headphones.

“It’s hard!” I said, pouting, “You try singing the same line a million times over.”

“At this rate I think any of us could do it better than you,” John commented.

“Shut up, I’ll try one more time, from the top of the verse. If I mess up again, I’ll take a break and we can do something else.”

I did get it eventually though, and after recording some more vocals and backing vocals, we called it a day and headed back to each of our respective homes.

I was busy the rest of the week with recording, and I didn’t get to see Gerard again, because any time I heard them playing downstairs, I would force myself to ignore it. I couldn’t afford to lose more sleep. But eventually, the week came to an end, and it was the last day of recording before we had a bit of a break. So, after the last long day working hard recording, we all headed to the coffee shop next to the studio.

“So what’s this I hear about the band keeping you up so you forget about our studio time?” Shaun asked as we settled around a table.

“That was like a week ago, and I said I was  _sorry_.”

“Yeah, we know, we all heard,” Tim said sarcastically.

“You should’ve seen him in the car, he was ten times worse,” Neil told the others.

“Shut up, you’re so mean to me,” I said, pouting again.

Shaun rolled his eyes, “Back to the band.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool, uh, Fall Out Boy I think.”

“You know Fall Out Boy?” Tim asked, seriously for once.

“Uh, well I don't really _know_ know them, I've only talked to them twice, but, yeah?” Fuck, I'd only seen Gerard twice. How did I have such a huge crush on him already?

“Dude, they’re pretty huge,” Tim told me.

“Really?”

“Jesus Christ, Frank, you need to keep up with the times.”

That was probably true.

"I'm busy, it's hard."

Tim rolled his eyes, "Busy enough to forget about your  _one_  job."

I dropped my head into my hands, "You guys are never gonna let this go, are you?" I asked, my voice muffled.

"Never," they all agreed.

"Great."

 

 

 

Later that night, I settled down in front of the TV with a cheap takeaway for my dinner. In my defense, it had been a long week. I was tired and feeling lazier than normal. Once I'd finished, I switched the TV off and made my way into the kitchen to clear up a bit. I was just washing up my plate when I heard some muffled noises coming from below. So, being the nosy fucker that I am, I switched the tap off to try and listen better. It sounded like singing, but nowhere near as loud as it usually was. And it definitely didn't sound like Patrick. Curiosity got the better of me and I made my way downstairs, not knocking before I opened Gerard's front door. He should really lock that more often. I stepped inside to see Gerard in the kitchen, making himself coffee, and singing a song I didn't recognise. And I had to admit, he had a pretty fucking amazing voice.

"I told you that you'd have an amazing voice," I told him, shutting the door behind me. He jumped practically a foot in the air, luckily not spilling his coffee.

He turned around to face me, "Fucking hell, Frank, you scared the shit out of me."

I laughed, "I saw."

"Do you want coffee?" he asked, pouring me out a cup once I'd nodded. He walked into the living room and handed me a mug, then sat down on one of the sofas, and I followed.

"Nice outfit," he said, as soon as I'd sat down. Fuck, I'd forgotten that I'd changed into my pajamas earlier. Well, more like a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. I tried to ignore the heat I could feel rising to my face.

"I've never seen all your tattoos before," he commented, probably trying to change the subject now that I'd gone bright fucking red.

"I have a lot."

"No shit," he said, looking at all the tattoos on my arms and the few on my legs. I'd always been wearing long sleeves and skinny jeans around him, not deliberately, it just kind of happened. "What do they all mean?"

"Uh, that'd take a while to explain."

"Right, yeah," he said, grinning sheepishly.

"So why don't you have any? You seem fascinated with mine," I said, poking his bare arm.

"Needles, man," he said, pulling a face, "they're fucking terrifying."

I laughed, making him pout at me, which was really fucking adorable. "Like you're not scared of anything."

"Okay, but spiders are  _actually_  creepy as hell."

"Spiders?" he asked, laughing through the word, showing his tiny teeth that I found way too cute. They're  _teeth_ , for christ's sake.

"They have too many legs and eyes," I explained, probably pulling a horribly unattractive face.

"I'm just picturing you screaming like a little kid when there's a tiny spider in the room," he told me, grinning.

"Shut up," I said, trying not to blush and throwing a cushion at his head.

"Hey!" he said as it hit him exactly where I'd aimed, throwing it back at me and hitting me in the chest.

I laughed, but refrained from throwing it back at him again, because a pillow fight could get way too sexual way too soon and I didn't want to be stuck in that situation and make anything too awkward.

"I ran out of coffee," I told him, realising I'd reached the bottom of my mug; I always drank too fast.

"I'll make some more," he said, taking my mug and his into the kitchen, and I followed.

"So you owe me some guitar playing, if you refuse to sing for me," he told me, facing the wall as he fixed up another two cups of coffee, with me waiting behind him.

"I've got a guitar upstairs and I know plenty of songs, so just say when really," I told him.

"Well, you could-" he started, turning round mid-sentence to face me, then freezing when he realised how close we'd gotten. Shit, was that my fault? I had been trying to keep my distance at least a bit. I could feel his breath on my nose, and it definitely sounded and felt unsteady. Had I done that? Maybe my feelings were actually reciprocated. Or, maybe I was an idiot and Gerard was just uncomfortable because his friend was standing way too close for it to be completely platonic. I should probably step back, before it gets past the point of recovery. But he wasn't stepping back, so maybe... No. I needed to stop letting my mind wander like this. He just thought of me as a friend, and he probably wasn't gay, and he probably had a girlfriend. But, I'd never seen any girlfriend. And it wasn't exactly like he  _hadn't_  flirted. Because I'm pretty sure he had been a little bit. Or maybe he was just friendly with everyone. Or maybe it was just me. Either way, we were still really close and Gerard was staring right into my eyes. I couldn't help but think about how desperately I want to kiss him. And how he'd react. Maybe I should just go for it, I'd never find out otherwise. Should I? Okay, fuck it. 

I went on my tiptoes ever so slightly, because I'm a short motherfucker, and leaned forward towards Gerard. Our noses nudged ever so slightly against each other as I moved closer, and his breath was warm on my lips. But then it was gone, replaced with cold. He had stepped away.  _Fuck._ I moved back, not wanting to look at his face and the obvious pity that'd be in it.

"Frank...I can't- I- I'm not- I have-" a girlfriend. Of course. I should've known. Well, I did guess, but I'd ignored that guess because I'm a fucking  _idiot_. 

"Yeah, of course, I should've known, it's my fault, but I should- I should go," I told him, backing away towards the door. I needed to get out and back to my own apartment. Or a giant hole could open up in the ground and swallow me so I'd never have to face Gerard ever again. That would work, too. 

"No, Frank, please..." Gerard tried to protest, but I was already gone and back up the stairs and into my apartment within seconds. I locked the door behind me and went to my bedroom, collapsing on my bed and hiding my face in my pillow. How could I be such an  _idiot_. Why didn't I just  _think_. I heard a knocking on the door, and knew it would be Gerard, so I just ignored it. I couldn't face him again. Not now, not ever.

The knocking persisted, and soon he was calling through the door. "Frank, I'm sorry, please just let me in so we can talk."

He sounded really sad, and I desperately wanted to open the door so he wouldn't be sad. But I couldn't see him. Not after being such an idiot.

Gerard tried to convince me to open the door several more times, but soon gave up, and I heard him walking back downstairs. I felt bad; I shouldn't have ignored him, but I'd feel even worse if I'd actually spoken to him. I can't believe I did that. I'm so  _stupid_. I didn't move from my bed, keeping my head buried in my pillow. I guess I fell asleep eventually, because I woke up to a room full of darkness. I dragged myself out of bed, my eyes soon adjusting to the dim light of the early morning. I checked myself in the mirror on the way to the kitchen to make coffee, and instantly regretted it. I looked like shit, no wonder Gerard wasn't interested in me. My hair was even more of a mess than usual, sticking up in every direction, and my eyes were bloodshot and underlined with dark circles, probably making me look like a fucking zombie of some kind.

I pulled my attention away from my terrible reflection, returning to my coffee-making mission so I could wake the fuck up. Yes, it was only four am. I checked the clock. But, I wasn’t getting back to sleep, I was surprised I had even managed it earlier when I’d been kicking myself so much. I still can’t _believe_ myself. _Why_ did I think it was a good idea to even try? I sunk my head into my hands as I waited for my coffee, trying to refrain from hitting my head against the cupboard door. Repeatedly.

Before I knew what I was doing, my phone was in my hand and I was dialling Ray’s number. He probably wouldn’t be happy to be woken up, if he was asleep, but either way, I needed to talk to him.

“You know now that you’re friends with them you can just go downstairs and talk instead of waking me up when they’re playing too loudly,” Ray said as soon as he’d picked up.

“For once, it’s not that. You know what you thought about…Gerard,” I said, my chest aching with his name.

“Uh, yeah?”

“You were right. I have a big, horrible fucking crush on him. And it’s completely unreciprocated, of course.”

“Why don’t you talk to him? You don’t know for sure, he seemed interested at the concert.” Him saying that just yesterday would've made me fucking ecstatic, but now it just made me feel sick.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just how he is. I thought the same, but-” I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself composed as I moved to the kitchen table with my coffee, “I was an idiot. I tried to kiss him. He’s definitely not interested. He has a girlfriend,” I told him, blurting it all out at once.

“Oh, Frank…” Great, I could almost see the pity in his face. His voice was dripping with it.

“I feel like a complete idiot.”

“It’s not your fault, he shouldn’t have led you on.”

“That’s the thing though, I don’t know if he was or if I was just fucking making it all up in my head because of this stupid crush,” I told him, trying not to raise my voice. I knew how thin these floors were and I definitely couldn’t risk a certain person overhearing.

Ray didn’t say anything, and we both just sat in silence for a few minutes. “I don’t think I can ever talk to him again,” I mumbled quietly.

I didn’t think Ray had heard, because he didn’t reply, but then after a while he spoke up again, “Listen, Frank, you can’t let this ruin your friendship with him. I’m sure he doesn’t want that and I know you don’t want that. Sure, you won’t be able to _be_ with him, but at least you can be friends. You can’t just hide from him forever, I’m sure he’ll understand and be willing to forget about it.”

“But every time I see him he’ll know what I think of him, and I’ll know that he’ll never think of me the same way, and that just _kills_ me.”

“Frank, at least try. Promise me you’ll call him or go talk to him or _something_.”

“I’ll think about it,” I told him, before hanging up and retreating back to the warmth of my bed with my steaming coffee, where I could wallow in self pity .

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank stops being an idiot. But still has a huge crush.

A week or two had passed, I wasn't sure, and I'd completely ignored Gerard. I did feel bad, admittedly, but I'd feel even worse if I actually talked to him. I couldn't. Not after I tried to fucking  _kiss him._ I wasn't sure how long I was planning to ignore him for, as long as I needed. It had been going pretty well too. Until a number I didn't know called my phone and I was an idiot and picked up.

"Hello?" I asked, realising the possibility of it being Gerard when it was already too late.

"Hey, Frank, it's Mikey," I let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't Gerard. But why the hell was Mikey calling me?

"Uh, hi?" I asked again, realising that it'd probably be about Gerard. Me and Mikey had exchanged little to no words in the few times we'd seen each other so there's nothing really else he could want to talk to me about.

"I heard about you and Gerard," he told me, and I involuntarily let out a groan. Yay, more people know about one of the most embarrassing moments I've ever lived through. Except maybe being almost half an hour late to class once because I'd been locked in a locker. That wasn't fun to explain in front of the entire class. Especially when the guy who'd actually locked me in was sitting at the back of class trying not to laugh his head off seeing my bright red face. "You need to stop ignoring him."

"Why? It's not like he's interested."

"He still wants to be your  _friend_ , Frank. Sure, he has a girlfriend, but he's so happy to be friends with you. You were good for him," Mikey said, and I couldn't help but feel like there was something he wasn't telling me about Gerard, "until you decided to completely cut himself out of your life."

"You don't know how embarrassing it is," I tell him, deliberately missing out the part about how it ached to be with him but not be able to be  _with_  him.

"Enough to lose a friend?"

"I don't know- I just-," I tried to say, "he put you up to this, didn't he?"

"He has no idea I'm talking to you. I just know him and can see that he's upset that you've been ignoring him for almost two weeks."

I sighed, feeling even worse knowing that Gerard was upset. As much as I wanted to be with him, a little part of me had hoped he wouldn't care, so I wouldn't feel so guilty. It would make it easier to never see him again and forget about him and this stupid ever-developing crush I had on him.

"Talk to him, please. For his sake."

"I- maybe," I tell him.

"I'll be calling you again if you don't."

"And I'll be saving your number so I can ignore your calls," I retorted.

"Seriously, Frank, talk to him," Mikey finished with, hanging up afterwards.

I sighed again, I really should talk to him. It might not be as bad as I think. I should at least give it a go, right? I put my phone down on the side, and made my way towards my front door, hesitating. It would be so easy to just keep ignoring him and never speak again. But this is probably better. I think. Fuck, I can't believe Mikey's making me do this. I opened the door slowly, and stepped out, shutting it behind me, and made my way downstairs slowly. Probably as slowly as I possibly could. But at least I was doing it.

I had just rounded the corner of the stairs, when I saw Gerard's front door open, and froze in place. A girl stepped out and it took everything I had not to go running back upstairs. This must be his girlfriend. She was pretty, and had long black hair tied back into two bunches. She had a guitar case slung over one shoulder, and I'm pretty sure it was a bass because it looked bigger than a normal guitar. I could just about see Gerard around the door, and I couldn't help but notice how cute he looked; his long hair messy and hanging in his eyes, his eyes squinting and tired, and he was wearing fucking batman pajamas. You can't just do that to someone when you're already attractive enough as it is. The girl was saying something to him that I couldn't hear, and I was glad neither of them had noticed me because I probably looked like a complete creep. She leaned forward quickly and kissed Gerard lightly on the lips, and I felt as if my heart was shattering into a million pieces. She turned to walk downstairs, and I did the same, except to go back to my apartment. Any confidence I had had about facing Gerard had been completely wiped away by seeing her. Even though I didn't know her, I couldn't help but feel hatred towards her, which was probably completely unreasonable. She was probably quite nice. 

I had almost made it back round the corner and to the safety of my apartment, when I heard a voice call out behind me.

"Frank!" It was Gerard. Fuck. I glanced over my shoulder to look at him, and he was standing further out of his apartment, one hand still on the door. "Please don't go again. Can we talk?"

"I- I don't-" I tried to say, not being able to come up with an excuse that didn't make me look like an idiot. I so desperately just wanted to turn and run away.

"Please," Gerard asked, and fuck he looked so sad. I should, at least then maybe he'd look a bit happier. 

I sighed, "Okay," I agreed, that's what I'd originally come downstairs for anyway.

His face didn't exactly light up, but he looked hopeful. Great. I waited at the top of the stairs, not wanting to move when faced with the prospect of being alone with Gerard again.

Gerard sighed, "We need to talk," he told me.

"Yeah..." I said, realising how sad I sounded and moving down the stairs to follow Gerard into the apartment.

"I'm really sorry," Gerard said, not looking at me as he walked into the kitchen, probably to make coffee, knowing him.

"Please don't fucking apologise," I said, following a short way behind him.

"Yeah but I should've- said something," Gerard said, turning round suddenly to face me, "it's my fault."

"Gerard, please- can't we just forget about it?" I asked, desperately hoping he'd say yes so I can ignore that it had ever happened. It probably wasn't that healthy, but it was better than ignoring him.

He sighed again, "Only if you promise that means everything goes back to normal," he said, "please don't keep ignoring me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I just-"

"It's forgotten," Gerard promised, suddenly stepping forward and pulling me into a hug, "I missed talking to you," he said. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I just stood there, arms hanging limply by my sides, until I eventually managed to get my brain to function enough to tell my arms to hug Gerard back. This really wasn't good. We were way too close and I could smell his hair and feel his heart beating against my chest and fuck how do people hug people they like without internally combusting.

"Sorry," Gerard said, stepping back and looking down guiltily, and I couldn't help but miss his warmth.

"It's, uh, okay," I told him.

"Oh," he said, suddenly looking up as if he'd remembered something, "I found out something about you."

Uh-oh. "What?" I asked, dreading his reply; I couldn't really think of anything bad he could find out about me, but I could've easily forgotten something.

Gerard turned round and continued making his coffee, "Well, there's this guy I'm writing a comic with, or, we're planning to anyway, and it turns out he knows you."

"Yeah?" I asked, still a feeling of dread sitting at the bottom of my stomach.

"Well, he told me that you're in a band," he said, turning round with two mugs of coffee in his hands and grinning at me, "and you're the lead singer," he added, grinning even more, if that was possible.

"Ugh," I said, letting my head fall backwards, "I was hoping you wouldn't find out."

"You told me you didn't sing."

"I don't really like being the frontman or the singer or anything I just want to be in a band, and since I wrote the lyrics the guys just kind of nominated me."

Gerard rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure," he said sarcastically, handing me my coffee.

"Shut up, you don't know any different," I replied, following him to the sofa and sitting down.

"Either you know nothing about your band members or you didn't make the connection that your keyboard player's writing a comic with someone," Gerard told me, smirking.

"Fuck, I'm an idiot. That's you. Shaun's even mentioned you before; the band knows you as 'crazy comic Gerard' because he always tells us stories about how fucking excited you get over any comic, even your own," I told him, laughing.

Gerard slowly turned bright red, and seemed to realise because he tried to hide it behind his hair, which, if anything, made it more obvious.

"I don't get  _that_  excited."

I laughed, seeing how shy he'd suddenly become about it. As much as I'd been dreading talking to Gerard again - not that I'd really planned to - I was glad that I'd finally done it. Due to the fact that I had been avoiding him, I didn't really miss Gerard as much as I should've. Sure, I missed him like hell, but I managed to ignore it because my mind was constantly telling me that he'd never want to see me again because he wasn't interested whatsoever. But now that I was with him again and talking and laughing I realised how much I'd really missed him, and how stupid I was for ignoring him.

"You owe me some guitar playing still. And singing, now," Gerard told me over his coffee.

I sighed, "No way."

"Pleeeease," he begged, looking at me through his eyelashes with wide eyes. Fuck. How does anyone ever say no to him?

I was even considering saying yes, but was interrupted by the front door opening and Mikey and Pete walking in hand in hand, followed by the rest of the band, and two guys I didn't recognise.

"Frank, fucking finally, where the hell did you disappear to?" Pete asked as soon as he'd spotted me.

"Oh, I've uh- been busy," I lied, catching Mikey's eye, who mouthed a 'thank you' at me.

“We’ve come to hang out for a bit and say bye, ‘cause we’re leaving for the tour later,” Joe explained.

“You’re going on tour?” I asked.

“Yeah, we would’ve told you if you didn’t _disappear_ for, like, two weeks,” Pete complained.

“Sorry,” I said. I felt guilty enough about ignoring Gerard. I’d forgotten that meant ignoring everyone else too. And now Gerard was looking at me sadly again. Great. “How long are you gone for?” I asked, trying _desperately_ to move onto something that wasn’t my disappearance, so Gerard would stop fucking looking at me like that.

“Just, like, a month,” Patrick said.

“I’ll get a full night’s sleep every night for a _whole month_?” I asked, as sarcastic as possible.

“You love it really,” Andy said, a half-smirk on his face.

I rolled my eyes, “Are you going with anyone else?”

“Oh, yeah, this is Tyler and Josh,” Pete said, gesturing at the two guys I didn’t know, “they’re the other band coming with us. Guys, this is Frank.”

“Hey,” they both say. I couldn’t help but be curious about what instruments each of them play, because unless they just both sing and they’re in some kind of mini-boy band, then it’ll be an interesting mix. Two man bands always are. One of the guys has various geometric tattoos on his arms and peeking out from under his shirt, and the other has pretty awesome hair. Not as cool as Gerard’s – though I might be a bit biased – but it was purple, which is pretty fucking awesome.

“So what do you guys like- how does your band-?” I tried to ask, making several hand gestures to try and demonstrate whatever the hell I was trying to say.

They seemed to understand what I meant though, because the one with the purple hair, Josh I think, said, “I’m the drummer and he’s the lead singer.”

“Don’t forget I play the piano and ukulele too. So I’m, like, way more important than you. You don’t even need to be in the band, really,” the other guy, Tyler said, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, because they both had completely straight faces.

“Please don’t start that again,” Mikey complained, collapsing on one of the chairs, “I can’t handle you guys kicking each other out of the band every five minutes if I’m spending a month with you.”

“You’re going too?” I asked him.

“He’s dragging me along,” Mikey said, half rolling his eyes in Pete’s direction, but with a smile on his face. Well, as much of a smile as you could call Mikey’s limited facial expressions. “I can’t help but notice you both have coffee but I don’t,” he said, glancing at mine and Gerard’s coffees.

Gerard sighed and rolled his eyes, “It’s your apartment too, go make it yourself.”

Now Mikey sighed, pushing himself up and making his way towards the kitchen.

“And while you’re there you can make me another one,” Gerard said, grinning at his brother while holding out his now empty mug, who just sighed again and took the mug with him into the kitchen.

Everyone soon found themselves places to sit around the room, and gradually descended into several individual conversations, which were interrupted by a short knock on the door, not long after Mikey’d returned with a coffee for him and Gerard.

“It’s open,” Gerard called out, taking a sip of his coffee. The door opened in response, and Ray stepped inside.

“Ray?” I asked. I was honestly surprised to see him there. Other than me, he’d spoken to everyone in the room, like, once.

“Sorry, I was looking for you and you weren’t upstairs,” he told me, clearly feeling awkward in front of so many almost-strangers.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Uh, it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“Yeah, but I wanna know now.”

“I’ll talk to you outside then.”

“Ugh, fine,” I said, pulling myself off of the sofa and following him out the front door.

“I was literally just coming over to convince you to talk to Gerard. I was worried about you holing yourself up in your apartment and avoiding him.”

“Oh, yeah. Mikey convinced me to talk to him, ‘cause Gerard was really upset that I was ignoring him.”

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“I know, I just- it’s hard,” I tried to explain.

“I know it’s tough, but you’ve literally just got to get over it. He’s got a girlfriend and you can’t keep thinking of him like that.”

“Yeah, but my mind doesn’t work like that. It just keeps thinking, like- what if they break up? What if they’re not even that serious?”

“Frank, seriously. Thinking like that will just hurt you more than it’ll do good,” Ray said, way too seriously for my liking.

I sighed, “I know. I hate this, I wish I could just do what you say but it doesn’t work, in any way whatsoever.”

“Try, at least.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it a go,” I promised, and turned back to go into the apartment after a quick goodbye.

“What was that about?” Gerard asked as soon as I’d sat back down again.

“Oh, uh, nothing really,” I told him, trying to look anywhere but at his stupid attractive face that I really needed to stop finding so attractive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me forever to update, I've been super busy with school but now I have a holiday so hopefully I can update more often.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a thunderstorm and Gerard is scared.

A few nights later, there was a huge storm, meaning I didn't get any sleep whatsoever. The thunder roared outside my window and I could see the lightning flashing from behind the curtains. I had tried to get to sleep at first, which didn't really work out, so instead I tried watching some TV, which also didn't work out when the power cut out.

Not long after my apartment had been plunged into darkness, except for the odd flashes from outside of the window, there was a light knocking at my door. I shuffled over to the door, my long pj bottoms dragging on the floor; it really sucks to be short, and it was getting way too cold to continue wearing just boxers in bed.

I opened the door to reveal Gerard standing in the unlit hallway, wearing those fucking batman pyjamas and a too-big hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head, almost hiding his face.

"I really hate thunderstorms," he told me, fear hidden slightly in the back of his eyes. I forced myself not to laugh; he was cute as fuck and it was pretty funny how the storm was scaring him, but, he was scared, and I didn't want to make him feel bad.

I stepped aside, making room for him to walk inside and collapse onto the sofa. I followed suit, asking him if he wanted coffee in the process. He shook his head, bringimg his knees up to his chest and hugging them. Wow, if Gerard didn't want coffee then this must be bad.

"I like your pyjamas," I told him, trying to distract him from the storm outside.

Gerard looked down at the loose-fitting trousers covered in the batman logo, and let out a short, nervous laugh. "Thanks," he said.

Another loud crack filled the room, and it was momentarily flooded with light, enough so for me to see the sudden fear that filled Gerard's eyes as he gripped his legs tighter.

"Hey, it's fine, seriously. It's just thunder, don't worry. There's tons of skyscrapers it'd hit before it hit this building, anyway," I told him, in some kind of weird attempt to console him.

"I still hate it," Gerard said, his voice muffled due to the fact that he had pressed his face into his knees. I tried to refrain from telling him that I loved thunderstorms. I found them really exciting, I don't know why really, it was just like flashes of light and some rumbling but it was still cool as hell, and most of the time I'd be staring out the window and watching every single lightning bolt. But today I was really tired. Also, Gerard was here now. I wasn't exactly going to deprive myself of his company.

"Is this like, your biggest fear or something?" I asked him.

"Well, uh, other than needles," he explained. Okay, we're like polar opposites. In terms of fears. He's terrified of storms, I love storms. He's terrified of needles, and, okay, I didn't exactly love needles. What kind of freak would love needles? But I had gotten used to them. What with, you know, a shit load of tattoos and several piercings. But really, why did I have to be brave about things he was scared of? Those kind of things make for perfect couples. So, of course, my brain was going into overdrive just thinking about it. I could comfort him whenever he's scared. I could hold his hand when he had to get vaccinations. We could cuddle whenever there were thunderstorms.

"Needles, really?" I asked, trying to stop myself thinking about me and Gerard as a couple and to hide my smile, which probably didn't work and came off as some weird smirk instead.

"They're scary as fuck."

"They're not that bad."

"They are that bad. You just don't have as much exposure to them or something, I don't know."

"Yeah, that must be it," I said, unable to help my sarcasm. Okay, my legs and chest were covered, but my fucking arms were right there in front of him. You know, covered in tattoos. Which, coincidentally, got there using needles. Not to mention I had both my nose and lip ring in.

"I dunno," Gerard mumbled, seemingly offended by my sarcasm, before he glanced down and spotted my exposed arms and a look of realisation crossed his face, as if he'd only just noticed the ink covering my skin.

"Oh yeah," he said sheepishly, looking up at me grinning, blushing ever so slightly.

I laughed at him gently, "You're such an idiot," I told him, shaking my head, "but a fucking cute one," I added, in my head. No way could I tell him that out loud.

"It's late, I- yeah I'm pretty stupid," he said, laughing as well. I started to laugh again, but was interrupted by a huge yawn, and covered my mouth, hoping Gerard wouldn't notice how much more unattractive a yawn probably made me look.

"Shit, sorry, am I keeping you up?" He asked, his eyes suddenly looking worried.

"No, it's fine. I never sleep in thunderstorms anyway," I reassured him. I didn't normally, cause I'd be excited, but I could sleep if I tried to most of the time, as long as they weren't too loud.

"I should go so you can sleep..."

"Seriously, it's fine," I said, trying not to sound so desperate for him not to leave.

"You should get to sleep though," Gerard said, still looking at me with worry.

"You're scared and don't want to be alone, and you don't have anyone else in your apartment, 'cause Mikey's gone now and..." I said, trying not to say anything about his girlfriend. It was still an awkward topic and I still hadn't met her, and didn't really want to because I'd probably end up hating her completely unreasonably. Either way, I didn't know where she was but I could at least presume that she wasn't in Gerard's apartment with him that night because otherwise he wouldn't have come running up to my apartment when he got scared.

Unless...No. I stopped that thought before it could develop any further. Gerard's girlfriend wasn't staying over at his that night and if she had been he wouldn't have come to me instead of her.

"I know it sounds creepy, but I can just kind of stay in your apartment, as long as I know someone's there...it's like, not so bad," he said, though his expression kind of contradicted what he was saying.

"You must be tired too though. I only have one bed but..." I said, was I really suggesting Gerard slept with me? I wanted that really badly, but I thought it probably wouldn't be a good idea for me or him. And he was looking doubtful, so he probably didn't think it was a good idea either. But actually, he looked more concerned, and was staring at me, his eyebrows furrowed together.

"Are you sure?" he asked. God, he was probably worried about me because he knew about my fucking crush on him now. Great. "I mean, I don't mind if you don't, but..." he added, not finishing his sentence, but everything had already been implied by his facial expression, and that 'but' carried a lot of weight.

I should say no. It'd be so easy to just say, "You know what, you're right, we probably shouldn't. You can just wait for the power to turn back on and watch some TV, or you can sleep on the sofa, and I'll go sleep in my bed. By myself. Because sleeping in the same bed when I have a big crush on you and you have a girlfriend is not a good idea."

But no, I was an idiot, and instead, I found myself saying, "It's fine, I don't mind, really," and so I ended up showing Gerard to my fucking bedroom and thanking the Lord that I'd bought a double bed when I first moved into this apartment.

"What side do you sleep on?" Gerard asked once we were both in my bedroom, and I found myself thanking whatever higher being there may be once again that I had decided to clean any dirty washing that had been lying around earlier that day. And fuck, he was so polite.

"Uh, the left," I told him. I generally slept in the middle if I was alone, taking up as much space that someone as short as me could, but in the morning I always found that I'd migrated to the left side of the bed. So I guess that was my side.

"Perfect, I like the right," Gerard said, smiling at me slightly in the dark. Fuck, why did all these things have to line up perfectly that'd make us a good couple? Why can't we be a sucky couple that would never get on and both like the same side of the bed and are both terrified of the same stuff and why did someone want to make my life so much harder and this crush even worse.

 

 

 

I thought the storm had started to move away once me and Gerard had both climbed into separate sides of the bed, as there were only faint rumbles and small flashes every now and then. But, I was wrong, because the next minute there was a loud crack, simultaneous with a flash that light up the entire room. That meant it was like, right above us, I think. Either way, I didn't have much time to dwell on the matter because Gerard was grabbing a fistful of my T-shirt with one hand and my arm with the other, and I saw the fear in his eyes from the dim light filtering in through the curtains, probably coming from the few street lamps dotted along the road.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to hide the fact that I couldn't fucking breathe because Gerard was lying in bed next to me and was grabbing my arm and he still hadn't let go.

Gerard nodded and tried to say something, but it just came out as a tiny squeak. Which, might I add, was a fucking adorable squeak. Surely this must be some level of sadism, finding his fear so cute, right?

"Are you sure?"

"Ye-yeah," he said, slowly releasing the grip on my arm, "sorry, it just...shocked me."

"It's fine," I told him, trying to subtly rub at my arm where I was pretty sure he'd left indents from his fingernails and there must be a red mark the size of his hand.

"Sorry, again," he said, and I saw his eyes briefly flick to my arm which I was still rubbing at. Okay, maybe I wasn't being subtle enough.

"Don't worry about it," I told him, "just try to sleep," I said, I couldn't handle being in bed with him let alone talking to him at the same time.

"Yeah, right, sorry," he said again, and I could feel his body shifting to get comfortable, and soon enough I heard his breathing slow, so I knew he had fallen asleep. I let out a big sigh once I was sure he was no longer awake, feeling as if I could finally breathe. I really shouldn't have offered to let him sleep here. Sure, it was completely platonic and it wasn't exactly weird for friends to share beds, I'd done it before, but it wasn't great when I had a huge fucking crush on the guy. And I couldn't help but notice he smelled amazing, his hair was splayed out on the pillow next to mine, and his shampoo smelled like some kind of citrus fruit and it was a really good smell. Also, I was finding his breathing cute. His fucking breathing. In the dim light, I could see his mouth ever so slightly open, which was adorable in itself, and he kept letting out these tiny little snores whenever he breathed out which definitely should be considered illegal because honestly snoring is supposed to be some kind of annoying ugly thing that wives always complain they get no sleep because of. It definitely shouldn't be really cute, especially when it's Gerard and he's cute enough on his own, without his stupid tiny snoring.

I sighed again, trying to drag my mind away from thoughts of Gerard, and turning my body away from him to make it easier. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore his snoring, and prayed that I would fall asleep soon before I could fall any more in love with him.

 

 

 

I woke up the next day entangled in Gerard, literally. My legs were somehow interlaced with his and he was on top of my arm, our bodies way too close together for my own good. I slowly slipped out from underneath him, thankful that I was the first one of us to wake up, and I didn't have a fucking boner or anything, because that'd make for an awkward explanation.

I made my way towards the kitchen, opening the bedroom door slowly and carefully so that Gerard wouldn't wake up, and let out a sigh of relief when I saw that the power was back on. Now, time for coffee.

I flicked the machine on and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard; I didn't even need to consider the idea that Gerard wouldn't want coffee. I'm pretty sure the world would end if that happened. Except, you know, last night. But he was scared, there was good reason not to want coffee. You don't want to be wide awake when you're scared because then you just think about it more.

Gerard stepped into the room with the messiest hair I'd ever seen just as the coffee machine pinged, rubbing his eyes and looking tired as hell. I handed him a coffee once I'd poured it out, and we both took a seat at the kitchen table.

"So you know my biggest fears now, what're yours?" he asked me, already looking ten times more awake after one sip of his coffee.

"Uh...spiders," I said. They were the worst, without a doubt.

"Spiders?" he asked, smirking slightly, and trying to hide it behind his coffee.

"Shut up. All those eyes, and legs, they're just fucking creepy, man."

Now Gerard laughed at me, and I just scowled at him in return.

"Anything else?" he asked, trying to compose himself to look innocent. Which was only succeeding in making him cuter than normal. So basically, off the scale type cute.

"Small spaces, like, I can get really claustrophobic sometimes."

"Good thing you're small too then."

"Shut up," I said, but couldn't help but smiling at him through my words.

Gerard just grinned at me, somewhat sarcastically, before laughing and returning to his coffee.

We both sat in silence for a minute, before Gerard looked around the room, and asked if I had a clock.

"Yeah," I said, nodding towards the clock on the wall behind him, "its almost 11," I tell him.

"Shit," he said, his eyes widening as he jumped up off the chair and downed his coffee in one.

"What?" I asked.

"I was supposed to meet Lindsey like ten minutes ago," he explained, attempting to neaten up his hair in the mirror I had hanging on the wall, before realising he was still in his pyjamas and groaning. I had a moment of confusion, because who the hell was Lindsey? Then I realised, after looking at how intent he was about fixing his appearance. Of course, it's his fucking girlfriend.

"I'm really sorry, Frankie, I just really have to go but thank you so much for last night and letting me stay over," he said quickly, before running out the door with a wave and an apologetic smile.

As soon as the door had shut behind him I slammed my head against the table. Why did he have to go and give me a fucking nickname. Fucking Frankie. Why couldn't he just call me Frank, and we can stay friends that aren't that close instead of friends who slept together last night and who give each other cute fucking nicknames.

But then I also didn't want that. I wanted us to give each other cute nicknames, and comfort each other when we're scared of the stupid things we're scared of, and be able to cuddle in bed together every night without feeling guilty about certain peoples girlfriends. But, of course, that's never going out to happen, is it? So I'm just going to have to get over it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey forgets his key and Frank finally meets Lindsey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first half is really sarcastic and therefore I found it really fun to write.

Later that week, I found myself hanging out with Mikey in his and Gerard's apartment. Well, more of in front of his and Gerard's apartment. I wasn't sure how it'd happened really, because we still hadn't interacted much, he was supposed to be on tour, and Gerard wasn't even there. I had been going downstairs for some reason, probably to take out the trash, I guess, and when I passed the floor Mikey's apartment is on, I found him sitting in front of the door looking really exasperated. Well, in terms of a normal person, he looked a tiny bit exasperated, maybe just ever so slightly inconvenienced. But in terms of Mikey, he looked horribly distressed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, taking in his unusual facial expression.

"I'm locked out of the apartment, cause I forgot my key and Gerard is God knows where."

"Aren't you supposed to be, like, on tour with Pete and everyone?"

"Pete was an idiot and left one of his guitars here, and it's one is his favourites, and they're only a town over, so I drove out to come get it," he explained.

"Awh, how sweet," I told him, sarcastically.

"Shut up," he retorted, somehow scowling and smirking at me in one expression.

"Do you just intend to sit there until you diffuse through the door or something?" I asked him, raising one of my eyebrows.

Mikey sighed, and rolled his eyes at me, "I don't know," he said, picking himself up off of the floor, "I was gonna wait for Gerard, I guess."

"Uh, I could attempt to pick the lock? I guess," I suggested, I don't know why. I can't pick locks.

"Have you ever picked a lock?" Mikey asked sceptically.

"Well, I've seen a lot of spy movies."

"Wow, go ahead then, why don't you break into the Bank of England while you're at it if your skills are that advanced."

"Why don't you just crawl under the door or something, then, I'm sure you'll fit," I told him, grinning sarcastically and looking down at his bone-thin wrists.

"You are no way in a position to make jokes about size," he retorted, looking me up and down mockingly.

"Shut up, tell that to your boyfriend."

"Shut up."

We both stood there in silence for a while, watching each other. I wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, and I knew we had both been joking but I'm pretty sure we were both way too sarcastic to be left alone with each other, without it turning to weird ass insults.

"What're you here for?" Mikey asked, not in a rude sense, just a curious one.

"Oh, uh, Gerard accidentally took one of my mugs back into his apartment," I explained. Okay, I hadn't been taking out the trash then.

"So we're both stuck here till Gerard gets back then," he said, sighing and taking back his position sitting against the door.

"Well," I said, joining him with my back against the door, "I could easily just go back upstairs and come back later for my mug," I told him, "but I'll be nice and keep you company," I finished, giving him a too-big smile.

"And people say chivalry's dead."

"I'm a fucking gentleman."

Mikey let out a short laugh, "Sure you are."

"I'm a motherfucking delight to be around and you know it," I said, pouting slightly, albeit sarcastically, because I didn't believe it in the slightest. But it got a laugh out of Mikey, which was probably also somewhat sarcastic.

We both drifted off into silence again, and we hadn't reached the point of our friendship yet when silences were no longer awkward, so, clearly, it was pretty fucking awkward.

The silence was soon broken by loud laughter - which was closer to a fucked up high pitched giggling - from probably a few staircases down. I could tell from the way my heart felt light at the sound that it was Gerard. But then it was as if my heart had grown ten times heavier again because there was a female voice and laughter accompanying it. Mikey got up at the sound, recognising his brothers laughter, and helped me up from my position on the floor. A few moments later, Gerard rounded the top of the staircase, hand in hand with the girl I'd seen leaving his apartment only a few days prior.

They both looked surprised to see us waiting for them, "Aren't you supposed to be, like, on a tour bus right now?" Gerard asked Mikey.

"Yeah, Pete's an idiot and left one of his guitars at the apartment and I forgot my keys," Mikey explained. "Hey I haven't seen you in ages," he told the girl, Lindsey, if I was right about Gerard running off to meet her the other day, and stepped forward to hug her.

She broke away from Gerard which made me way too happy, and hugged Mikey back, "Yeah I just got back from tour a few days ago, and we're really fucking busy with the new album already."

I tried not to roll my eyes at the universe in general. Of course she'd be in a band that's way more successful than mine and actually go on tours and shit.

"Oh, Lindsey this is Frank, Frank this is Lindsey," Gerard said as soon as the hug had been broken.

"Uh, hey," I said, wanting a hole to open up in the ground and swallow me up because I was probably being so awkward or turning bright red or just destined to do something stupid eventually.

"Hey," she replied, smiling at me.

"What're you- like, what's-?" Gerard stuttered, probably trying not to be rude.

"I was keeping Mikey company, because I'm a gentleman," I told him, with a completely straight face.

"Yeah, just like you're a top-class spy from all those movies you've seen," Mikey added, with an equally straight face.

Gerard rolled his eyes, "I should've known to keep you two separate so you couldn't get to know each other because that's just too much sarcasm for whichever poor person has to handle you," he said, stepping forward to unlock the door, while Mikey smirks at me from behind his back.

"You stole one of my mugs," I told Gerard as the four of us step into the apartment.

"What?" he asked, looking genuinely confused as Mikey walked past us to presumably his bedroom.

"The other day, when you had coffee at mine, you walked away with my mug," I explained, deliberately missing out the part about him sleeping with me. Well, in the bed next to me. Either way, it's not a good thing to mention when his girlfriend is right there.

"Oh," Gerard said, a look of realisation crossing his face, "that's probably in my bedroom or bathroom or somewhere stupid, hang on," he told me, walking in the direction Mikey had left in.

"So you're the famous Frank?" Lindsey asked me as soon as Gerard had left, taking a seat on the sofa. Oh god, I was alone with her.

"Famous?" I asked, awkwardly taking a seat a decent enough distance away from her but not so far away that it looked like I was trying to avoid her.

"Well, Gerard's mentioned you a few times, to say the least," she told me.

"Oh, right," I said, trying to cover up the fact that I was probably fucking blushing like hell because Gerard had told his girlfriend about _me_ , which I really shouldn't be overthinking because Gerard had told his _girlfriend_ about me. We kind of went off into silence, and it was even more awkward than with Mikey, though probably only in my head, as long as Lindsey didn't know about my crush on Gerard, which I hoped was true.

"So, you're in a band?" I asked, desperate to try and break the horrible silence and god where the fuck was Gerard.

"Oh, yeah, I play bass,” she said, and I could tell by the look on her face that this was a much more interesting topic for her.

"Are you signed to anyone?" I asked, which, to me, always felt like an awkward and/or rude question, especially if they weren't, but it seemed like one of those obligatory questions you ask when you're talking about someone's band.

"Uh, well, that's a complicated question," she said, laughing slightly, "we don't really sign any record deals properly, we just, like, license our albums to record companies so we can keep the music our own, if that makes sense."

"Yeah, so they don't, like, change anything, right? Like lyrics and stuff." That was actually pretty cool, I had to admit.

"Yeah, exactly," she said, enthusiastically, "like, we don't exactly have the most..." she paused, laughing slightly again, "normal lyrics, so lots of companies would want to change them or alter them to be more censored or whatever, but thats not really what we want, so we make sure we have, like, ownership over our music so that no one else really has the right to change it for us."

"That's really cool, 'cause I know that record companies, especially the bigger ones, not that I have much experience with them, always, like, try to alter shit and change band's music if it doesn't conform to the ideals or whatever shit reasoning they have behind it, and that sucks, 'cause the band wrote the song like that for a reason, you know? So you shouldn't change it just because there's too much swearing or it mentions things that they aren't comfortable showing, and that could change the whole meaning of the song, so it's just really kind of stupid."

"Exactly, hardly anyone seems to get that, if like you change this one part of a song, even if it's just a word or phrase, it could remove the meaning entirely because every part of a song, even if it's just a swear word or something, add to the meaning of it," she said, just as Gerard walked back into the room holding my mug and looking pleased with himself, probably just for finding it.

"So you two are getting on," he said, smiling more and showing off those tiny teeth of his that shouldn't be cute but are because why fucking not.

"Hardly anyone gets the stuff about record companies, they're always just like 'take out all the swearing then' or 'alter the lyrics a bit', but Frank gets it," Lindsey explained.

"Oh, Frank's in a band as well, and he's the lyricist so that's probably why he gets it," Gerard said, smirking at me and handing me my mug.

"Really, what're you guys called?"

"Pencey Prep, I would offer to show you some of our music but we're still in the studio for our first album, so I'll just have to promise to show you the album when it's done instead," I tell her, half directing it at Gerard as well, hoping that'd be enough to stop him bugging me about making me sing.

"What do you play?" she asked, just as Mikey came back carrying a bass guitar strapped across his back.

"Uh, I sing," I said reluctantly, wincing when Gerard gave me the most annoying smile ever.

"Why's this the first I'm hearing of this?" Mikey asked, giving me a weird look when he saw me sitting on the sofa with Lindsey, that I couldn't understand whatsoever. "I'd have pegged you down as more of a guitar guy," he added, putting down the guitar and moving to the coffee machine. Maybe Gerard's coffee addiction is hereditary.

"Well, yeah, I play guitar as well," I explained, and Mikey kept looking at me and giving me that weird look, which I still didn't understand, so I stood up, making some excuse about how I had to leave.

They all said bye as I left, and I sighed once I'd shut the door behind me and was making my way back upstairs. Lindsey was cool. Why couldn't she be annoying, or a bitch, or just anything negative, really. It'd make it so much easier to hate her. But no, of course, Gerard had to pick the cool girlfriend who plays bass in some weird band that doesn't sign contracts and swears a lot. Which was still pretty cool.

I got back into my apartment and grabbed the phone off the side as I collapsed into one of the seats. I typed in the number quickly and waited through the dial tones.

"Hey, what's up?" Ray asked once he'd picked up.

"Can you set me up with someone? I need to get over Gerard."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much really happens in this chapter so I don't really know what to say here. Most of it happens in a record store? It's a pretty short filler chapter, really.

"You know you're impossible to set up," Ray told me over the phone, just a week later.

"All you need to do is find a person around my age that I'll get on with," I told him.

"You don't mind if it's a girl, right?"

"If I really have to explain bisexuality to you at this point..."

"No, no, it's just I've only ever seen you date guys."

"I can have a preference."

"Okay, whatever, but seriously, it's impossible."

"Just try harder, please, I'm desperate here."

"I'm trying, but go out or something too, try go meet someone."

"Where?"

"I don't know, a record store or something, hover around some good albums and see who looks at them, then you'll have a common interest."

That was actually a pretty good idea, so I told Ray I'd give it a go and hung up, before grabbing a coat and heading out the door. I kind of hoped I'd run into Gerard on the way down, because now that I was going to be actively trying to get over him, I felt reluctant to do so. But I didn't see him, which was probably a good thing, and I was down at the record store across the street within a matter of minutes.

I stepped into the warmth of the store and pulled my hood down, quickly glancing around. There was a small group of teenagers in the corner looking at something, an older guy buying something at the counter at the back of the store, but other than that, it was empty. I sighed and made my way to one side of the store, and looked over the different music there, most of which I already owned. Okay, I bargained with myself, the first person to come in here and look at the music I was looking at, or talk to me about said music, I would ask out. Unless they acted like an asshole or anything. The first nice person, I corrected.

I spent a while looking around, since the store wasn't that popular, but after a little while, I heard someone come up behind me and look over my shoulder.

"Nice taste in music," a voice I recognised said, and my heart skipped a beat. Fucking hell, I thought, turning around to face Gerard, who had a stupid smile on his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly looking simultaneously concerned and upset. Fuck, I must've looked annoyed or something.

"Nothing, I just- it's nothing," I said, I couldn't exactly tell him the truth without making it awkward. He'd agreed to forget about the kiss, so I didn't want to go and ruin that.

"Did I do something?" Gerard asked, still looking worried.

"No, no, it's nothing, seriously," I reassured him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, seriously, don't worry."

Gerard frowned for a bit longer, then his face cleared as if he'd remembered something, "Oh yeah, I saw you in here and I wanted to ask you if wanted to come to this concert tonight, Lindsey's band, Mindless Self Indulgence, is playing and I thought you might like to see them cause you two seemed to get on and you were talking about her music."

"Oh right, that'd be cool, I think I'm free," I told him.

"Great," he said, smiling, "do you need a ride?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks."

"Okay, cool," he said, smiling more. Fuck. "I gotta go, though, so I'll see you tonight."

Gerard waved goodbye quickly before dashing out the store again, and I felt like slamming my head against the wall. Why did he have to be so nice and talk to me and want to be friends and hang out. It makes it that much harder to get over him. I turn and walk out of the store as well, because loitering around music I liked had only managed to get me hanging out with the one guy I definitely shouldn't be hanging out with.

Halfway back to my apartment, Ray called again.

"Hey," I said, bringing the phone to my ear.

"How'd the record store go?"

"Uh, well, it was definitely unsuccessful," I said. Ray didn't need to know I'd seen Gerard. Or talked to him. Or planned to see him later.

"Good, because I think I've got you a date for tonight."

"Tonight? I think, uh, I think I'm busy."

"You weren't busy when I called you before."

"Well, I didn't have plans before."

Ray sighed, and I knew I was probably being difficult, "Where are you going?"

"To a concert."

"Is it Fall Out Boy?"

"Uh, no."

"Who are you going with?"

"Uh, well, I don't know, there could be multiple people going..."

"Frank."

Now it was my turn to sigh, "Gerard. I'm fucking going with Gerard. I know, I'm an idiot."

"Seriously?" Ray asked. He sounded exasperated and pretty annoyed. I don't blame him. I would be too. "I need to keep you on a fucking leash."

"It's so hard to say no to him when he just fucking appears out of nowhere and asks me to come to a concert. Anyway, it's his girlfriend's concert, so I can't exactly pull anything."

"That's just gonna make you feel like shit, Frank."

"Maybe it'll help me get over him."

"I think a date with someone else will just work better."

"Tomorrow night, instead?"

"I'll try sort it out. Don't come complaining to me later that Gerard was being cute or he and Lindsey were holding hands because I will hang up on you," he warned.

"Okay, okay, I won't complain. I swear. And thanks, for setting me up."

I could almost hear him roll his eyes, "It's fine, and don't flirt tonight cause you suck at subtlety. I'll text you later about tomorrow," he said, before hanging up. I slid my phone back into my pocket, crossing the road and stepping back inside my apartment building.

Not long after I'd gotten up to my apartment, my phone pinged, telling me I had a text from Ray. "Tomorrow. I'll give you a lift to the restaurant. Be ready for six," it said. I couldn't help being nervous; it felt like I hadn't been on a date in years, when in reality it was probably just a couple of months. What the hell was I going to wear? It was at a restaurant, so that meant fairly fancy, but is it casual enough to wear black skinny jeans with some kind of nice shirt or do I have to go full on dress pants and all. I hoped not, dress pants weren't exactly the most comfortable things.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair, which probably needed a haircut, since it was growing pretty long, and had started to flick out at the ends, which probably didn't look that great. I really needed a haircut. But then again, my face didn't look that great and there was nothing I could do about that so I might as well just roll with it. I sighed again, putting thoughts about hair and clothes and concerts and dates out of my head, and picked up my guitar, which had been propped up against the far wall, and settled down on the sofa, ready to vent some frustration with heavy riffs.

 

 

 

I didn't realise how long I'd been playing for until there was a knock at the door, and Gerard calling in telling me to hurry the fuck up. I threw my guitar down, well, more placed it carefully on the sofa, because guitars are expensive and I'm poor, and ran over to the door.

"Shit, sorry," I said, opening the door to Gerard, who was still wearing the same casual outfit as before, so I let out a sigh of relief; my black flag shirt and jeans should be considered acceptable. "I lost track of time," I told him, stepping out into the corridor, after slipping on a pair of shoes.

"It's fine," he said, "we've still got some time before they go on."

I nodded as we both walked down the stairs, side by side, though I was slightly behind him, 'cause short legs suck, and I didn't have the greatest lungs ever.

We reached the bottom floor quickly, he showed me to his car, and I climbed into the passenger seat. It was cold inside at first, since he hadn't started the engine and I wrapped my arms around myself to attempt to warm up a bit. Gerard was twisting the key, trying to start the car and failing. He leaned forward, examining the key slot, his tongue stuck out ever so slightly, and extremely adorably. Fuck, I was in for a long night, I thought, just as the engine spluttered to life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank goes to his first MSI concert, but not the date (yet).

Once me and Gerard had climbed out of the car, parked outside the venue, we were ushered inside by security who must've recognised, which somehow managed to make me feel worse about seeing Gerard and Lindsey together again. And, for probably the millionth time since I'd gotten in Gerard's car, I was regretting agreeing to coming with him. 

"Come on," he said, giving me an excited smile and pulling me along behind him by my hand, and I couldn't help but feel my face flush at the contact. Fuck. "I think the techs are just setting up, if we're quick I can introduce you."

"Uh, okay," I said, stumbling behind him and attempting to keep up with my arm that he was dragging; his legs are longer than mine and therefore he takes bigger steps than me.

"Okay," Gerard said, suddenly stopping in front of me and sending me almost flying into him. We had stopped just in front of where Lindsey and a few other people were sitting and standing, surrounded by instruments and amps, just off the side of the stage. "Frank, you know Lindsey, and this is Jimmy, Kitty and Steve. Guys, this is Frank," he said, gesturing around.

"Hey," they all said, raising hands and giving me small smiles.

"Hey," I replied, feeling horribly awkward because Gerard was (as far as I knew) friends with these people because he was dating their friend/band mate. I'm pretty sure friends don't introduce friends to friends-in-law. Except they weren't married, and you aren't really related to your friends. Most of the time. Because sometimes, there were abnormal siblings like the Way's that were actually friends. But the rest of the time, siblings didn't really get on. Just like me and my non-existent brothers and sisters.

"Come on, you guys need to be on stage, like, now," a really tall, lanky guy wearing a headset said, appearing out of nowhere and ushering the band towards the stage. 

"It was nice to meet you," Steve called back, a guitar being shoved into his arms, and then the four of them disappeared and the screaming of fans took their place.

"They've got a lot of fans, huh?" I asked Gerard, peering round to get a look at the big crowd as we settled in where we could see the stage without being seen too much by the crowd.

"Yeah," Gerard said, smiling proudly, and I didn't know what my heart was doing. Some kind of fucked up somersault while slamming itself against my rib cage. It's like I felt upset because it wasn't  _me_ he was smiling proudly over, but then I also felt happy over how happy he seemed. If this is what starting to get over someone feels like then it's weird as hell.

Suddenly, the music started up, and it felt like my eardrums would burst from the heavy bass, but I shook my head at the offer of earplugs from one of the guys backstage; I was in my element. It felt like it had been forever since I'd been at a concert where I could feel the music vibrating my heart and bones and just about everything, and it definitely helped me relax a bit, which probably wasn't completely normal to feel relaxed at a concert, but when you'd grown up going to concerts as often as you could, it made more sense.

The music was actually pretty cool, and had a kind of techno-rock feel to it that was really hard to explain without actually hearing it for yourself. They definitely put on a good show; Jimmy was flying around on stage and Lindsey probably moved around on stage more than any bass player I'd ever seen. Even Pete. She even did a fucking  _back bend_ halfway through the show, how the fuck is anyone even that flexible.

I turned to look at Gerard, who was smiling contentedly, his head resting back against the wall. He turned to me, noticing my staring. "Hey," he said, not that I heard him over the noise, but I could guess that's what he said, from the way his mouth moved.

"Hey," I replied, trying to resist brushing a hair that'd fallen in Gerard's face.

"What?" Gerard asked, squinting at me and turning his ear towards my mouth.

"I just-" I said, laughing at his confused face, he definitely couldn't read lips, "just said hey," I explained.

"Huh?" he asked, turning back to me, looking deep in concentration.

I laughed again, "Nevermind," I said, talking as slowly and as loud as I could, "you idiot," I finished, right into his ear, and I could tell he heard because he pulled a face, pouting at me before his face spread into a smile.

He dug his elbow into my side, and okay, that probably hurt more than he'd intended, so I nudged him back with my shoulder, before turning back to watch the concert, where I'm pretty sure Jimmy was about to fall or be dragged into the crowd if it wasn't for security holding him up. I could feel Gerard looking at me still, so I glanced over at him, and saw that he was giving me a weird look, his eyebrows furrowed together, but he turned away quickly as soon as he saw me looking. I had no idea what the fuck that meant, but my mind lingered on it as I turned to watch the last few songs.

The concert was over soon, so I put Gerard's weird faces out of my mind as they came off stage, sweaty and smiling, and Gerard hugged Lindsey as soon as she'd put her bass down, and I saw him whisper something into her hair, and my chest felt tight. It had been fun, admittedly, but I also knew by then that it had been a mistake. Ray was right, as much as it killed me to say, but being around Gerard probably wasn't the best idea. Especially if Lindsey was there.

I sighed, letting my brain retreat back into it's thoughts, waiting at the side while everyone talked and buzzed, until I got a chance to excuse myself, telling Gerard I could take a cab home. He insisted that he should take me home, but I told him he should stay, and disappeared as quickly as I could.

"You were right," I told Ray over the phone, as soon as I was safely in the cab and on the way home.

Ray sighed, "I warned you."

"You  _knew_ I wouldn't listen. And he- I just- Ugh."

"I don't want to hear it, Frank, you knew what you were doing," Ray tried to say sternly, but I could hear the softness in his voice underneath, and knew that he'd listen to me complain for fucking hours, which I could do, but I made sure not to, so Ray couldn't complain about my complaining any more later on.

"It's just really hard," I sighed, resting my head against the back of the seat.

"You've just got to get over it, man. I know you probably don't want to hear that, and it's pretty fucking useless advice, but it's the only thing you can do."

"Ugh, I know.  _I know_. But  _how_?"

"You've got that date tomorrow," Ray reminded me, "today," he corrected, "everything hangs in the balance of that fucking date," he said, sighing.

I sighed as well, running one hand through my hair, "Yeah. Yeah. I can't fuck it up."

"But you're so good at that," Ray said, eliciting a short laugh from me.

"Any tips?"

"Uh, I don't know. Try not to make any weird-ass jokes that seem to be your expertise, but not everybody gets. Try not to dress like you just left a concert. Talk about music; you look happier when you do, but not too much unless she's really into it to. And, whatever you do, don't think about Gerard. You get this far-off, depressed look whenever you do."

"I'll try my best."

"You better. You need a fucking girlfriend. Or boyfriend, whatever. Just someone to take your mind of Gerard."

I sighed again, "Tell me about it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank goes on his date (/blind date, does this count as a blind date?)

The next day, after lots of convincing, I had managed to get Ray to let me take his car instead of him just dropping me off. Being chauffeured by your best friend doesn't always give the best impression, I had decided earlier in the day. I arrived, five minutes late because some fucking pickup truck decided to stop and take up over half the road, so much for making a good first impression. I was worried about not being able to find her at first; Ray hadn't given me a particularly accurate description of 'as short as you with black hair', so I ended up walking up to the restaurant, worried about messing up the date or not even fucking finding her in the first place. Ray seemed to have given her a better description of me though, because as soon as I started weaving my way between the few tables scattered around outside, I saw a girl stand up in the corner and wave me over. I let out a sigh of relief and made my way over to her, realising as I got closer that she was  _pretty_. She had really fucking pale skin, and messy almost shoulder-length, black hair framing her face, which broke into a big smile when she saw me.

"Hey, I'm Jamia," she introduced herself, sitting back down again.

"Uh, hi, I'm Frank," I told her, taking a seat opposite hers. "Please tell me Ray didn't give you some horrible but accurate description of me so you could recognise me."

She laughed, her light brown eyes crinkling slightly at the edges, "Don't worry nothing bad. He mostly told me to look out for all the tattoos," she explained, looking down at my forearms, which were only exposed because I'd rolled my jacket up to my elbows, as per Ray's request, which made a lot more sense now.

"I'm gonna take a guess that they  _don't_ put you off then?" I asked, giving her a nervously hopeful smile.

"Maybe if you'd showed up on a motorbike with an entourage of big, muscled men in bandannas, that might've put me off a little bit," she joked, "but I'm afraid even a shit ton of tattoos can't make you any more intimidating when you're a skinny four foot tall man."

"Hey! I'm not that short, I'm probably taller than you," I told her, narrowing my eyes sarcastically.

"Yeah, but I'm woman, and we're generally shorter than men just 'cause that's how nature seems to work, whereas you've got no excuse."

I sighed and rolled my eyes, making her laugh at me, managing to compose herself as one of the waiters approached our table.

"Are you ready for me to take your orders?" he asked.

"Uh, I guess?" I said, looking up at Jamia for confirmation, who nodded.

"Can I have the, uh, carbonara?" she said, which the waiter nodded at, scribbling it into his notepad.

"And you, sir?" he asked, looking towards me. I glanced down quickly at the menu, mainly because I hadn't actually looked at it yet, but also because I was trying not to laugh at the fact that I'd just been called 'sir'.

"Uh, I'll have the veggie burger, please," I said, which the waiter nodded to again, wrote it in his notepad, and walked off after taking orders for our drinks.

"Neither of us are good at choosing food for a first date, are we?" Jamia asked, as soon as the waiter had left. I furrowed my eyebrows at her, confused, and was about to open my mouth to ask what she meant when she continued, "You just ordered a burger, and I ordered fucking spaghetti. Neither of which are particularly attractive foods to eat, if that makes sense," she finished, frowning at herself now.

I laughed, "If you're lucky you'll get a nice view of my tonsils or various foodstuffs falling out of my mouth as the burger falls apart."

Now it was her turn to laugh, which faded off quickly and we both drifted off into silence. Fuck, think of something to say, quickly, I told myself.

"Can I tell you something that hopefully won't scare you off considering this is a date?" Jamia asked out of nowhere, at first making me feel relieved for the new conversation, but then dread settled into my stomach as I wondered what it could be.

"Uh, sure?"

"I just got out of a...pretty big relationship, so this is my friends trying to make me 'get back out there', and I know I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm desperately trying to get over my ex right now, and so, uh, yeah, I felt like you should know. Sorry if that was a bit...weird to tell you, considering we've known each other for not even a day, an hour, even," she explained, looking down at the table.

I let out a sigh of relief, "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that."

"Really?" she asked, looking back up.

"Well, to be completely honest, my friend's been trying to help get me over someone that's not really...available, so this is their last ditch attempt, because avoiding them didn't turn out to be a good option," I explained. Fucking hell, I couldn't believe I was telling my date about Gerard.

"I guess we're in the same boat then," she said, smiling at me.

"Thank god," I replied, and we started to drift back into another silence. This is why I hate first dates.

"So, uh, this is such an awkward question but we can't really go on not knowing, so, like, uh, what do you do?" Jamia asked.

"I'm in a band, that's nowhere near successful enough to pay the rent," I told her, realising that telling my date that I was broke probably wasn't the best idea. Second thing of the night I shouldn't have told Jamia, lets see how far I can get.

"Really? That's awesome, do you have any albums or anything?" she asked, actually looking really interested and thankfully not commenting on my lack of money.

"Uh, we're kinda in the process of recording our first," I explain.

"Are you guys any good?" she asked, then frowned, "That's a stupid question, isn't it?"

I laughed, "A little bit, yeah."

She just dropped her head into her hands and shook it.

"You can see us sometime, if you want," I offered, and I honestly didn't know if that was too forward or what.

She lifted her head up, looking at me, "That'd be awesome."

We talked for a bit longer, mostly about bands and music and the fact that Jamia was unemployed, which made me feel slightly better about my severe lack of money, and then our food was being put in front of us.

"Time to put you off my face forever," I warned her, which she just laughed at. I wasn't sure whether she'd laughed at what I'd said or the fact that it'd be hard to be put off my face, because the way she laughed made it seem like the second, but I highly doubt it was. Because, you know, my face doesn't need anything doing to it to put you off it; just one look is enough.

"I didn't realise how hard it is to get all the spaghetti onto your fork at once so nothing's actually falling off," Jamia said, watching her fork wind around her plate in despair.

"Go ahead," I told her, "I promise I won't laugh," I said, giving her the best innocent look I could.

She rolled her eyes at me, but moved her fork towards her mouth anyway, ignoring the strands of spaghetti dangling off, sucking them up once the rest of it was in her mouth. It had gone pretty well, except somehow one strand managed to almost hit her in the eye, leaving a faint trail of sauce across her face.

"Crap," she muttered, wiping at her cheek with the napkin, and I couldn't help it, it was pretty funny watching someone almost get hit in the eye with spaghetti. I had a right to laugh. "Shut up," she said, hearing my laughter and narrowing her eyes at me, "you said you wouldn't laugh."

"I didn't think it'd be that funny," I told her, trying to stop my smile leftover from the laughter.

"It wasn't that funny," she said, holding her ground, but I raised my eyebrows at her and she caved, "okay, it was probably pretty funny."

"Thank you," I said, before raising my burger to my mouth, where it promptly fell apart, sort of, at least, several chunks of not-meat fell off and onto my plate.

Jamia laughed, giving me a kind of look that just said "See, it's hard."

"Shut up, that was nowhere near as funny as you hitting yourself in the eye with spaghetti."

"You make it sound like I just grabbed a handful of spaghetti and shoved it into my eye socket! And besides, it totally was, purely because of the stupid face you made when you realised your food had decided to go for the leap of faith instead of your mouth," she said, laughing at me.

"Shut up," I mumbled again, but couldn't help laughing despite myself.

 

 

 

I think, all in all, I decided, while in the car on the way back to my apartment, that the date had been successful. Admittedly, I didn't walk her home (she had a car with her), and we didn't kiss or anything, but she had warned me that she'd just gotten out of a big relationship for that exact reason, and I was expecting to move a little slower than normal because of it. But it had been fun, either way, and I felt like we'd actually gotten on. And, for once, I didn't think about Gerard, except when I accidentally told her about him, but that didn't really count, and I still didn't think about him for the whole drive back home, which definitely meant something. Then, on the stupidly long climb up to my apartment, I still didn't think of him, even when passing his front door, which _really_ fucking meant something. And finally, I reached my apartment, collapsing on my bed, smiling contentedly as I fell asleep. Not thinking about Gerard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though this wasn't Frank and Gerard I still found it really cute to write.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just really awkward.

The next two weeks passed quicker than I thought possible, and most of it was spent with Jamia, which Ray teased me endlessly about. Okay, it's probably not normal to hang out with someone this much the week after your first date, but it's not normal for blind dates to work out anyway so I guess that has some part in it. It's not like we were explicitly dating now, at all. Nothing had  _happened_ between us, and when we were hanging out it felt more like it was just as friends, rather than as a couple. I didn't know what that really meant; whether we were just moving slowly because it was easier for both of us that way, or if we were just going to be friends, but it didn't really matter to me. She was fun to be around, and she helped me forget about Gerard, even if it was just from distractions, rather than having found someone else, yet. I still hadn't seen Gerard, and hardly thought about him, for that matter, since the concert. But, of course, that all ended up getting completely messed up.

Jamia had been over at my apartment, which could have all sorts of connotations, but it was mainly because it was within walking distance of where she'd had a job interview, and she had no ride home or money for a taxi, so she was waiting at mine until her roommate was free to pick her up. She was as poor as me.

"I swear I'm going to take you grocery shopping at one point because you have no food, honestly," she told me, while in the process of looking through my kitchen cupboards, as I sat at the table with a coffee.

I shrugged, "Takeaways are easier."

"But so  _unhealthy_ ," she said, rolling her eyes at me.

"I'm gonna be as unhealthy as I please," I said, sticking my tongue out at her when she pulled a face. "Oh my god, you've got to be joking," I said, to no one in particular a few moments later, upon hearing music blaring from below us.

"Noisy neighbours?" Jamia questioned, looking at me then the floor, which, must to my surprise, wasn't shaking. Yet.

"The noisiest," I told her, "come on," I said, getting up and dragging her out the door and down the stairs.

"Don't tell me you're taking me to yell at your neighbours," she complained, halfway down the stairs.

I laughed, "No, don't worry, they're friends of mine. They're in a band and they've been on tour for a bit, so it's been nice and quiet, I guess they're back now though. I don't why the fuck they need to practice after they literally just got off tour."

I pushed the apartment door open once we reached it, because it was still unlocked as always, and I found out they weren't irrationally practicing, instead just blasting their own music from the radio, and I couldn't help but sigh and feel like Pete was the one behind that.

I quickly glanced around the apartment before stepping inside with Jamia. Everyone was lounging around the room, talking and eating pizza, which was probably also Pete's doing. I noticed straight away that Gerard was missing, and I let out a sigh of relief; I had managed to completely forget that this was his apartment when deciding to come down here, which was admittedly pretty stupid.

"We were wondering how long it'd take you to come down," Pete said once he'd spotted me, leaning over and flicking off the music.

"Why the fuck were you playing your own music?" I asked.

"Well, it's awesome music, you can't blame us," Joe said, shrugging.

Pete rolled his eyes, "That's true, but we thought you wouldn't mind joining our mini we-just-finished-tour-pizza-party, so we thought that playing our music has managed to get you downstairs on previous nights, so it should work today."

I sighed, "You could've just come upstairs and asked me, like, you know,  _normal_ people?"

"That's boring, though," Andy said.

I rolled my eyes, just as Gerard and Mikey stepped into the room, holding several beers each, and Gerard froze as soon as he saw me, almost sending Mikey flying into his back. 

"Uh, hi," he said, giving me a weird look, "who's that?" he asked, looking at Jamia, who had been standing to the side by the door, and I instantly felt like shit for not introducing her straight away.

"Oh, yeah, right, guys, this is Jamia. Jamia, this is Patrick, Pete, Joe, Andy, Mikey and Gerard," I said, gesturing respectively.

Everyone smiled and said hi, except Gerard and Mikey, because Gerard just kept looking at me with that weird look on his face, and Mikey was looking at Gerard worriedly.

"Come, sit, there's plenty of space," Pete said, gesturing around, and me and Jamia took a seat on the far end of one of the sofas, and I could still feel Gerard's eyes on me.

"Do you guys want beers?" Mikey asked, handing the ones he had in his hands to the other guys, and taking the beers from Gerard and handing them round. "Pete, you're coming with me," he said once me and Jamia had both said yes, dragging Pete off with an expression as confused as I felt. Just as they were leaving the room, I heard Mikey whisper a bit too loudly, "You fucking idiot," into Pete's ear, before disappearing out of earshot.

Everyone was left in an awkward silence, until finally Gerard tore his eyes away from me and sat down next to Patrick, taking a huge swig from his beer.

"So, what was the tour like?" he asked, and I couldn't help but feel like he was avoiding looking at me now, which was preferable to him staring, but still made me feel just as uncomfortable.

"Pretty crazy, even for a pretty short tour, it was really-" Patrick started, but was interrupted by Pete exclaiming, "I didn't know!" from the kitchen.

"Couple argument?" I questioned, mostly directed at Patrick.

"Uh, sort of," Patrick told me, looking sideways at Gerard and frowning, and I felt like, not for the first time, that I was missing something.

"They're dating?" Jamia asked me, quiet enough so that only I heard.

"Yeah," I replied, just as quiet, "Mikey's shy about it and everything else, and Pete's anything but shy about it, so it's an interesting mix," I finished, looking up and meeting Gerard's eyes, and he frowned, giving me that weird look again that I  _didn't fucking understand,_ before looking away quickly and taking another sip that couldn't really be called a sip from his beer.

Pete and Mikey came back not long after, hand in hand, so I assume they'd sorted out whatever the hell they had been arguing about, and sat down together in the small space left next to Gerard. Neither of them had brought back the beers they were supposed to have been getting, but I decided to ignore that, and I guess Jamia did the same because she didn't say anything either.

Jamia's phone broke the silence with a shrill ringing and she jumped up, looking as relieved as me, "That'll be my roommate, so I've gotta go," she explained, "it was nice to meet you all," she said to the others, and we hugged quickly in the doorway before she disappeared down the stairs.

"I should probably go too," I said, turning back to everyone else; I felt like I had made this whole get together awkward and I wasn't even sure how.

"I'll walk you to your apartment," Mikey said, getting up from his position pressed between Pete and Gerard. 

"Uh, I literally live a staircase away, I'm not gonna get murdered on the way upstairs," I told him, but he ignored me, pushing me out the door as the others said goodbye. "What was that about?" I asked once he'd shut the door behind us.

"Ugh, fuck, I don't know what to say without...I, fuck," Mikey said, running a hand through his hair.

"Just tell me," I said, my curiosity and worry building.

"I-well, uh, Gerard's not great right now, and, uh..."

"What?" I asked, feeling even more worried, "Do you want me to do anything, like, I don't know, talk to him or something?"

"No, no, it's uh, I hate myself for saying this, but it's probably best if you just stay away for a while."

"What? Why?"

"It's really complicated, Frank, sorry, but, I'll- I'll explain at some point," he said, avoiding my eyes.

"How long?"

"How long for what?"

"Do I have to 'stay away' for?"

"I don't know, I- I'll talk to you about it later, okay?" he asked, now looking me in the eyes with his eyebrows furrowed together.

I sighed, "Okay, yeah, sure," I said, "I better go," I told him, turning and going up the stairs before he could stop me. Somehow avoiding Gerard by my own free will felt better than being told to stay away from him, for whatever reason I had to.

Once I was back in the safety of my apartment, I collapsed in a chair, and took my phone out of my pocket to call Ray, but saw a text from Jamia pop up on the screen.

"You were acting weird as fuck, so which one of them is the one you;re trying to get over?" I read off of the small screen, and I felt impressed, despite myself; Jamia didn't even know I was into guys yet and she'd managed to deduce that, so she must either be really good at reading people or somehow know me really well already. Or I'm just horribly obvious.

"The one with the crazy red hair," I texted back, "you know me too well for only knowing me for two weeks," I added on the end, before sending the message and dialling Ray's number.

"Hey, what's up?" he said into the phone, once he'd picked up, to which I just sighed in response. "Don't you dare fucking say it's Gerard, or else I'll kill you."

"I guess I'm just a dead man walking then."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really long but hopefully it's worth it.

It had been a month. _A month_. And I hadn't seen Gerard once. Well, actually, I'd seen Gerard exactly once. I'd been going downstairs for a smoke, when I'd heard Gerard arguing with someone and saw him just in the doorway of his apartment, but I couldn't see who the other person was, as I had hidden behind the corner of the wall as soon as I realised he was there. He looked like shit, in all honesty. I mean, he still looked gorgeous, but he looked exhausted, and when I saw him I felt something stir in my heart and I started worrying about him like crazy, even though I had no idea what was going on with him and he could've just had a bad night.  
  
"Who was he talking to?" Jamia asked me when I told her about this over coffee. Still nothing had happened between us, and we'd sort of drifted into a friendship rather than a relationship, but I was still glad for the company. I didn't have many friends and one can handle only so much of Ray's parenting.  
  
"I don't know, I didn't see. I didn't recognise their voice but it was definitely a woman," I explained.  
  
"Was it his girlfriend?"  
  
"I don't think so, I've met her and it didn't sound like her."  
  
"Does he have any sisters?"  
  
"He hasn't mentioned any, and he's pretty close with Mikey so I'd have thought he'd be fairly close with any other siblings."  
  
"So, what was he, like, was he okay? What did he look like?"  
  
"Tired. And drunk."  
  
"Fucking hell, Frank. I've met this guy once and you've managed to get me worrying about him."  
  
"If you're worrying about him, think how I feel!"  
  
"Fair enough," she said, taking a sip of her coffee and furrowing her eyebrows together as she thought. "Maybe you should talk to him," she suggested.  
  
"Mikey told me to stay away," I reminded her, though I doubt she'd forgotten; I'd barely shut up about it.  
  
"Talk to Mikey then, I don't know."  
  
I sighed, "What if he just tells me to keep away still? It just...doesn't make sense, I don't get why I have to stay away from Gerard when I could be talking to him or helping him because he really doesn't seem okay."  
  
"There's probably some reasoning behind it."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"That's the point, I don't know, so call Mikey!"  
  
I sighed again, and opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by my phone ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and checked the screen.  
  
"Who is it?" Jamia asked.  
  
"Mikey," I told her, and her face showed the surprise I was feeling. How ironic.  
  
"Hey?" I said, answering the phone and trying to ignore Jamia leaning across the table and trying to listen in.  
  
"Hi, Frank, are you at home right now?"  
  
"Uh, no, why?"  
  
"Crap," Mikey muttered.  
  
"I'm pretty close, I'm just having coffee, why?"  
  
"Would you be able to get home, like, soon?" he asked, sounding hopeful.  
  
"Uh, yeah, I guess, care to explain why I need to be home though?"  
  
"Well, not exactly home but, uh, you know how I told you to keep away from Gerard for a bit?"  
  
"How could I forget," I replied sarcastically.  
  
"Well, I need you to do just that, actually. Can you do me a huge favour?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"I can't get home until tomorrow some time, and I'm really worried about Gerard, and I know I didn't want you to see him but I need you to check on him right now because I- I'm just really worried," Mikey said, talking too fast and stumbling over his words.  
  
I stood up straight away, making my way towards the door, and Jamia followed without having to be asked. "Is he okay?" I asked, walking quickly and worrying because apparently that's what I do best lately.  
  
"I don't know, I hope so."  
  
I chewed my lip, worrying even more. "Are you ever gonna tell me why I had to stay away?"  
  
"Not right now, just check on Gerard, please," he said, sounding desperate and scared, so I didn't push it any further. "And Frank?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Go alone," Mikey said, before hanging up, and I couldn't help but feel like he knew I was with Jamia, somehow. Mikey just seemed to know these things.  
  
I explained everything to Jamia as we walked, and she agreed that it was best I go alone, and told me she'd just take a cab home. I helped her hail one just outside my building, before taking the stairs two at a time to reach Gerard's apartment.  
  
I pushed the door open, knowing it would be unlocked, because when isn't it, and called out into the empty looking apartment.  
  
"Gerard?" I said, for the third time, after getting no reply the first and second times.  
  
I looked around the front room, trying to see where he could be, then moving into the kitchen, where I found him sitting on the floor of the kitchen, his back pressed against one of the cupboards and an almost empty bottle of vodka in one hand. Fuck.  
  
"Gerard?" I asked again, going to kneel in front of him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his words slurring together as he frowned at me.  
  
"Mikey was worried about you," I told him.  
  
"Mikey doesn't know shit, Mikey made you avoid me for a month," he said, taking a swig from the bottle before I grabbed it from his hands. "Hey!" he protested.  
  
"Gerard, you're drunk."  
  
"Who cares, you're short," he said, laughing at himself as if he'd made the funniest joke ever.  
  
"Come on, you need to get to bed," I said, trying to help him up.  
  
"Get off!" he yelled, "I'm fine, I want to stay here."  
  
"You can't just stay on the kitchen floor."  
  
"I can if I want to."  
  
"Come on, Gerard, you're drunk and you're clearly not okay."  
  
"I'm fine," he said, "you can leave. Tell Mikey he doesn't need to baby me and keep checking up on me."  
  
"I'm not leaving when you're like this."  
  
"Yes you are. I don't want you here," he said, staring me dead in the eye, and even though the words were slow and slurred, they still made my heart ache.  
  
"Gerard, come on, seriously," I said, trying to ignore his previous words.  
  
"No. I'm not going anywhere with you. You ignored me for a month just when I needed you."  
  
Upon hearing that I suddenly was filled with guilt and a flash of anger towards Mikey. I never should've done what he said. But he knows Gerard best, so he should know what's best for him, so if this was how Gerard felt, why did Mikey tell me to stay away? "Mikey told me to... He said it'd be best for you."  
  
"Mikey doesn't know shit about what's best for me. Neither do you. Only I know what's best for me. And what's best for me is if you leave now," Gerard said, glaring at me.  
  
I felt reluctant to leave but he obviously didn't want me there, so I stood up, walking backwards to the kitchen door. "I'll come back in the morning, okay?"  
  
"How about you come back never," Gerard slurred, barely understandable, just as I left the room and the apartment. I didn't turn back, taking deep breaths to calm the aching in my chest.  
  
I walked back up to my own apartment quickly, collapsing on the sofa once I was inside, taking out my phone to text Mikey.  
  
"Just very drunk," I typed out, sending the message.  
  
I got a reply back instantly, which made me realise how worried Mikey must be about his brother, if he was waiting for me to say something.  
  
"Can you stay with him?" I read, and felt my heart drop. That was probably the last thing I could do.  
  
"He doesn't want me there," I replied.  
  
"Please," was all I got back.  
  
"I'll check on him in the morning," I texted back, throwing my phone down on the table, knowing I wouldn't get a reply from Mikey because he knew how stubborn I could be.  
  
  
  
  
I spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around the apartment, worrying about Gerard. Every now and then I'd feel the urge to go back down and check on him, but I'd decide against it, knowing he'd just tell me to leave again and make me feel even more shit.  
  
I had started to get ready for bed when I saw another message from Mikey pop up on my phone. "Can you just go down and see him before you sleep," it said, and I felt like Mikey was somehow fucking psychic if he knew my sleeping schedule. Either way, I ignored the message; I couldn't handle being told by Gerard of all people that I wasn't wanted again. So, I just ended up sleeping, ignoring a new text from Mikey telling me to reply.  
  
  
  
  
I woke up to pitch black darkness, checking the time on the clock, and it told me it was only 3am. I tried to close my eyes and go back to sleep but I already knew I wouldn't be able to. Something felt wrong. A feeling of dread had settled into my stomach and I didn't know why it was there or what I could be dreading. I picked my phone up off the bedside table to see if I'd gotten another message from Mikey, and I definitely had. 10 missed calls and three messages.  
  
"Frank why the fuck aren't you replying," that was just after I'd gone to sleep.  
  
"Please Frank," that was about 1am.  
  
"I feel like something's happened Frank fucking hell wake up," that was about 5 minutes ago.  
  
I pulled myself out of bed, the feeling of dread about ten times worse than it had been before I checked my phone. I slipped on a pair of jeans, a hoodie, and shoes quickly, before stepping out of my apartment and going down the stairs as quickly as I could. I reached Gerard's door and let out a sigh of relief when it opened.  
  
I stepped inside, and the apartment looked even emptier than it had before, somehow. I went straight to the kitchen, but he had moved, and he wasn't in any of the front rooms. I moved further back into the apartment, checking Gerard's and Mikey's bedrooms, but he wasn't in either of them. My heart was pounding faster than ever at this point and I started to feel panic rising in my chest.  
  
"Gerard?" I called out, my voice echoing throughout the apartment, and it somehow made me feel even worse.  
  
But, I head a faint noise, and followed it, leading me to the closed bathroom door. I knocked quietly before pushing it open slowly when I had no reply. Gerard was sitting on the floor, and I felt a wave of relief, but then I saw that he had his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried in them, and was rocking ever so slightly.  
  
He looked up when he heard the door opening, and he looked scarily pale, except for dark, sunken circles around his eyes.  
"F-Frank?" he asked, looking up at me almost as if he was looking right through me, his eyebrows drawn together.  
  
"Oh god, Gerard, what happened?" I asked, kneeling down in front of him again.  
  
"F-Frank, I- I'm sorry oh god I'm so sorry," he said, tears welling up in his eyes. "I didn't mean to, I- I just- I wasn't thinking and I was just- and I feel so..." he said, his head falling to the side slightly almost as if he was falling asleep.  
  
"Gerard, what happened?" I asked again, louder, trying to keep his attention.  
  
"I- I'm sorry," Gerard just repeated, tears starting to fall from his eyes before he pressed his face back into his knees with a gasp, "fuck," he mumbled.  
  
"Gerard??" I asked, feeling panicked and worried simultaneously, "what did you- oh no," I said, spotting a small pot lying on the floor. I picked it up, my hands shaking, and recognised the name on the front as an antidepressant. I shook it, and heard no rattling of pills inside whatsoever, and it felt like my stomach and heart and all my other various internal organs had just plummeted into the ground. "Fuck, Gerard, how many of these did you take?" I asked him, pulling his chin up to face me.  
  
"I- I don't know, I just-" he said, pushing the balls of his hands into his eyes, "sorry. Tell Mikey I'm sorry."  
  
"No, no, I won't have to," I said determinedly, pulling out my phone and calling and ambulance, trying to stop my voice from shaking, reading the tiny writing printed on the back of the pot as I spoke, trying to find anything about overdosing. Once I'd given details, the operator told me an ambulance was on the way, and to stay with Gerard. Now time to call Mikey, which was even worse.  
  
"Frank, fucking finally, why did you ignore me? Did you check on Gerard?" Mikey asked as soon as he'd picked up.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I just- fuck, Mikey, it's not good," I said, trying to calm myself so he couldn't hear the fear in my voice.  
  
"What do you mean? What happened? Is he okay?" Mikey asked urgently.  
  
"Fuck Mikey I'm so sorry I should've stayed with him this is all my fault oh my god."  
  
"Frank what the fuck happened??" Mikey said, almost sounding angry. I don't blame him.  
  
"He's- I came down to check on him and I found him- I found him in the bathroom and fuck he's overdosed and I called an ambulance but I don't know what to do and fuck this is all my fault."  
  
"Fuck," Mikey said, and I heard his shaky breathing. "What did he take?"

"Uh, anti- antidepressants, I didn't know he was- that he needed-"

"Frank, it's not the time. I'm on my way. Keep him awake if he still is. It's not your fault," he said, before hanging up.

I let my phone drop to the floor, paying more attention to Gerard, who was looking at me with sad, tear-filled eyes.  
  
"I- Frank," he said, his eyelids fluttering.  
  
"No no no, you're staying awake, okay?" I said, putting a hand on either side of his face and making him look at me.  
  
"My head- I feel so- everything's just- so dizzy," he said, his sentences disconnected, broken by his uneven breaths.  
  
He closed his eyes, leaning into my hand, and I tried to push his head upright again, "No, no, stay awake. Don't- don't- fuck, no," I said, tapping his cheek lightly with my hand, trying to keep him awake, but I just got a slight mumble in response, and his head started to feel heavier.

"Gerard, come on, please, don't-" I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes because  _fuck_. I let go of Gerard's head slowly, so his neck wouldn't get hurt, and picked up the empty pot again, trying to read it again through my blurred vision.

 _"Very dangerous to take more than the prescribed dose,"_ I manged to pick out, and it felt like someone was trying to crush my heart between their palms. I dropped the pot, tilting Gerard's head to expose his neck, and pressed two fingers where it met his jaw. I could feel his pulse clearly, fast and erratic, jumping out against my fingers, and I let out a small sigh of relief. 

I heard the distant wail of sirens and decided to take some initiative, instead of just sitting there crying like a fucking idiot, and shifted round to Gerard's side, sliding one arm behind his back and the other behind his knees, picking him up slowly. And I had definitely either underestimated Gerard's weight or overestimated my own strength, because I found myself struggling as I carried his unconscious body into the living room, placing him down carefully on the sofa. I sat with him for a few minutes, holding his hand between both of mine, and praying, fucking  _praying_ , that he would be okay, because he couldn't just fucking do this to me. Or Mikey, or Lindsey, or  _any_ of his fucking other friends. He couldn't do this.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs outside, and soon paramedics were in the room, but it felt as if they were a million miles away. I could feel hands forcing me away from Gerard and saw him carried onto a stretcher after they checked his vital signs. I followed them back down the stairs in a daze, climbing into the back of the ambulance and just watching from the corner. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, texting Mikey to come to the hospital instead of the apartment. I felt like a robot, like my mind was completely disconnected from my body and my body was just going through the motions. I let my head fall against the wall of the ambulance, trying to blink away the tears because  _this couldn't be happening_. I tried to ignore the quiet words exchanged between the paramedics; knowing they'd probably just make me feel worse. I closed my eyes, taking a deep shaky breath. Then opened my eyes again slowly, looking down towards Gerard and felt my heart jolt, seeing his deathly pale skin. I would've thought he was dead already if it wasn't for the erratic beeping coming from the small cardiac monitor one of the paramedics was holding.

 _He's going to be okay_ , I told myself. _This isn't happening, fuck, this isn't happening. He's going to be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to part of the last chapter but there was just way too much stuff that had to happen, but that's why I've uploaded it so soon after the last one because I'm an impatient fucker and can't even wait a few days to upload something if I've finished it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why do I even bother with summaries I have no idea what to write in these.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really got into writing this recently hence the sudden influx of updates and as much as I wish I could say that'll I'll keep it up I probably won't be able to because I need to start revising for my GCSE's at some point (though I'll try to update daily/every other day while I still can), also there was a shit ton of comments on the last chapter so I would like to formally thank you for making me smile like an idiot, I'm like a comment whore or something.

I sat in the hospital waiting room, staring intently at the floor and trying desperately to calm my breathing. I hadn't really processed what had happened when we were back in Gerard's apartment, but being in the ambulance and seeing him lying in the stretcher like that, it had all hit me and I was having a lot of trouble handling it. I had followed the paramedics into the hospital and would've thought about how much it felt like I was in one of those terrible soap operas, if there hadn't been the far too real possibility of one of my best friends _dying_. I tried to follow him into the hospital room, but the doctor told me I wasn't allowed and would just have to stay in the waiting room until they could guarantee that Gerard was okay and stable.  
  
Mikey had arrived shortly after me, his eyes red and swollen and his hair a dishevelled mess. As soon as I'd seen him I had stood up and pulled him into a hug; no matter how shit I was feeling about this, I knew it was a hundred times worse for Mikey. This was his _brother_. We stood like that for a few minutes; embracing, our ragged breaths in time, until Mikey pulled away and collapsed into a chair, groaning as he dropped his head into his hands.  
  
I sat back down next to him, not knowing what to say. I wanted desperately to comfort him, but there was nothing I knew that could be considered even slightly good news.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," Mikey said into his hands, before lifting up his head and running a hand through his hair.  
  
I wracked my brains for some kind of acceptable response, but it was too focused on the fact that Gerard could be dying to come up with anything other than a deep sigh.  
  
"Did he say anything to you?" Mikey asked after a few moments, turning to look at me and I felt my heart shatter all over again from seeing the brokenness behind his eyes. "When you found him?" he added.  
  
"He, uh, he just kept saying sorry and told me to tell you sorry," I told him, trying to keep the shake out of my voice.  
  
"What about yesterday?"  
  
"He- he was really drunk and he just seemed angry, mostly. At both of us."  
  
"What? What did he say?"  
  
"He was, uh, complaining that you kept checking up on him and thought you knew what was best for him, and said you didn't. And he, uh, kept telling me to leave and that he didn't want me there, because I had ignored him for a month," I said, "just when he needed me," I added quietly, hopefully not loud enough that Mikey heard.  
  
"Oh god this is all my fault," Mikey said, groaning and dropping his head back into his hands.  
  
"None of this is your fault."  
  
"It is, you have no idea."  
  
I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it again, realising I had nothing to say, again. I didn't know why Mikey was blaming himself so I couldn't really reassure him, so I just let us drift into silence.  
  
"I had no idea he was..." I said after a few minutes, "how? When?"  
  
"He's been bad before; never this bad, but bad, and I thought everything was going well and he was getting better, but then he started to get worse again. That was before you met and when you did, it helped. A new friend that doesn't realise what's going on with you completely can be good, you know? That's why I wanted to make sure you wouldn't avoid him after you almost kissed. He had started to get better. But then got bad, really bad, really quickly. He started drinking a lot more than normal, and he lost his job, and he and Lindsey weren't great and everything seemed to fall apart for him."  
  
"But- but I went to one of Lindsey's concerts with him, like, two weeks before I last saw him. They seemed okay, he seemed happy."  
  
"A lot can happen in two weeks," Mikey said, looking down at the floor.  
  
"But he didn't seem that bad at the end of your get together thing," I said, not wanting to believe how fucking oblivious I'd been to Gerard's suffering.  
  
"Frank, he barely said a fucking word. He was trying his best in front of you as it was," Mikey told me.  
  
"But...why?"  
  
"He-" Mikey started, cut off by his own sigh, "it doesn't matter. But how bad he was then, he just got worse and worse each day over the past month. Not long after I told you to...yeah, our- mine and Gerard's grandmother died," he said, avoiding looking me in the eye, clearly still sensitive about the topic, "he was really close with her, and it killed him that he wasn't there when she died. Our mum had tried to call to tell us to come down as soon as we could, because she was in the hospital, but Gerard was drunk when he picked up the phone, and told her he didn't want to speak to her, and left the phone disconnected until I found it the next day. Of course, by then it was too late and Gerard was angry at our mum, and me, and mostly himself, because it had been his fault that he'd been drinking, but he just drank more because of it.  
  
"He started disconnecting himself from everyone, and he stopped seeing his therapist no matter how hard I tried to make him go. He missed Hele- our grandmothers funeral, which made our mum mad at him, and she came here and tried to help and get him out of this place he's stuck in, but they just ended up arguing and probably upset them both more." So that was who the woman he was arguing with. "I just wish I hadn't fucking told you to avoid him. You could've helped, you...get through to him somehow."  
  
"Why did you tell me to?" I asked, "What's this big fucking secret?"  
  
"It's not mine to tell, you-" he started, but was interrupted by the doctor stepping into the room, and me and Mikey both stood up faster than I thought possible.  
  
"Is he okay?" Mikey asked, his eyes wide and his eyebrows drawn together.  
  
"We've put activated charcoal into his system and his body is responding well, his condition is stable and as long as the treatment works as well as we hope it will, he should be able to go home within 36 hours," the doctor told us, looking down at his clipboard. I felt like a hundred weights had been lifted off of me, except the new one of Mikey leaning against my shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief.  
  
"He's still asleep at the moment," the doctor continued, "but you're allowed to be in there with him, he may have some confusion when he wakes up, and other symptoms from the drugs may linger for a while, if you'll follow me," he said, turning and walking in the direction he had come from, and me and Mikey followed quickly.  
  
"Wait, drugs? Plural?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, we found traces of other recreational drugs in his system," the doctor told me, and I heard a soft 'fucking hell, Gerard,' from Mikey's general direction. "You're lucky you found him when you did, any later and too much of the drugs would've been absorbed, and it could've been too late."  
  
"Frank, I could fucking kiss you," Mikey told me, and I just pulled a face in response.  
  
The doctor showed us to a room with the door ajar, and told us not to wake him up before he did so by himself, and then left again. Mikey pushed the door open gingerly, stepping in slowly, and I followed, just as slow and nervous.  
  
Inside was a large hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machines, and Gerard lay in the centre of it, looking so small and pale. Mikey went straight to the chair sitting by the side of his bed, and I follow suite, pulling up another chair.  
  
We sat in silence for who knew how long, until Mikey broke it. "Seriously though, Frank, thank you," he said sincerely, looking up at me.  
  
"Don't thank me. This wouldn't have happened if I had just stayed with him-"  
  
"That doesn't matter, Gerard told you to leave and you did, that's fair enough. What matters is that you found him and you saved his life."  
  
"I didn't save-"  
  
"Shut up. I know you did. You know you did. Gerard fucking knows you did."  
  
"I-" I started, but stopped mid-sentence when Gerard stirred and made a small noise, blinking his eyelids open.

"Mmm, Mikey? Where am I?" he asked, frowning as he pulled himself up into a sitting position.

"You're in the hospital, do you remember what happened?"

"I don't-" Gerard started, his eyebrows drawn together, "oh," he finished his face clearing. "Mikey, I-"

"Never do that to me again," Mikey said, pulling Gerard into a long hug.

After a while they pull away from each other, and Gerard looks surprised to see me sitting on the other side of the bed. He must be really out of it, because I wasn't exactly sitting far away; my knees were practically pressed against the edge of the bed. Old habits die hard, I guess. Well, not so much old habits, really. Admittedly, I had  _thought_ I was over Gerard. But that was probably just because I hadn't seen him for a month and I'd managed to keep up constant distractions throughout that month. I only knew this was all true because now that Gerard was in front of me again, my feelings had come back in full force.

"Frank-" he started.

"I'm going to let you two talk," Mikey said, standing up and making his way towards the door.

"What? W-" I started to say, feeling ever so slightly panicked because why the  _fuck_ did Gerard need to talk to me alone. Or why did Mikey think Gerard needed to talk to me alone.

"Mikey, seriously?" Gerard interrupted, glaring at him.

"Stop fucking avoiding it," Mikey said, moving closer to the door.

"What's he talking about?" I asked, turning to Gerard.

"You know how you wanted to know why you had to stay away from Gerard?" Mikey asked me.

" _Mikey_ ," Gerard said, warning in his voice.

"What are you two talking about?" I questioned, hating the feeling of being in the dark about something.

"Well, Gerard's about to tell you why I thought you not seeing him for the past month might help in trying to salvage his relationship, and also why he managed to keep up the illusion that he was fine in front of you and only you, and-"

"I  _was_ fine," Gerard said, clenching his jaw.

"Gerard, you were  _not_ fine."

"Okay, again, what the hell are you guys talking about?" I asked.

"Frank, no offense and all, but you are so fucking oblivious to shit sometimes," Mikey said, rolling his eyes.

"That's not helping me in the slightest, so would either of you care to fucking enlighten me?" I asked, looking between the two of them exasperatedly.

"Go ahead," Mikey said, giving a nod towards Gerard and disappearing out the door.

"Gerard?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"It doesn't matter, really," Gerard said, avoiding my eyes and evoking a deep sigh from my mouth.

"It clearly does," I told him.

"It- I just...not now, okay? I still feel a bit..." he said, trailing off.

"What?" I asked, sitting up straight suddenly, "What is it? Are you okay?" I asked, worrying.

"Frank, I- relax, it's fine, I've just got a killer headache and I feel a little dizzy and out of it, I'll be okay in a bit," he reassured me.

"You better be," I told him, leaning back again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some shit happens and I don't want to give anything away.

Gerard came home the next day, and if he had thought Mikey's constant babying had been bad before, well, now was about a thousand times worse. I'm pretty sure he hadn't left him alone in the apartment for the few days he had been home since what happened. So, that's why I ended up outside Gerard's door at seven fucking am when Mikey had to go back to work.  
  
"I don't believe you," I said, pushing past Mikey, who had opened the door, and collapsing down on the sofa.  
  
"I'm worried about him, okay? I don't want to leave him alone all day," Mikey told me, kneeling down by the door to slide on his shoes and tie up his laces.  
  
"He's a fucking grown man you don't need to have people babysit him 24/7, and plus, what the fuck is this going to do for him thinking you trust him?" I asked, even though I actually agreed with Mikey; I was way too worried about Gerard still, even though he _seemed_ fine, I didn't exactly want him left in his apartment with nothing but his thoughts all day. But it was seven am, I was grouchy.  
  
"Frank, I know you're worried about him too," Mikey said, and I swear to god he's a fucking mind reader.  
  
"Yeah, but he's okay, he seems a lot better."  
  
"You have no idea, honestly," Mikey said, picking a bag up off the counter.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"He's still trying to put on a fucking brave face in front of you. He doesn't want you to realise how bad everything is for him right now."  
  
"Why, though? I'm his friend, I can help."  
  
"That's what I've told him every time I see him fake a smile in front of you."

"He's not-"

"He is. Just, try to talk to him today. I'll call you when I can," Mikey said, stepping out the door before I could reply and shutting it behind him, the sound echoing throughout the quiet apartment.

I sighed, pushing myself off of the sofa and making my way further back into the apartment. I poked my head into Gerard's room, to see if he was awake, but found him splayed out across his bed, tangled in with the bed covers, his red hair framing his face messily. I stepped back, closing the door slowly and quietly, and made my way back into the living room, collapsing on the sofa again. I picked the remote up off of the coffee table and switched the TV on, finding some shit movie playing. It didn't matter either way, because soon I found myself drifting back to sleep.

 

 

 

I woke up to the sound of the TV still playing, and shifted in my seat to try and get more comfortable and go back to sleep, but stopped when I felt something pressing against the inside of my calves. I opened my eyes and looked down, seeing Gerard sitting cross-legged on the floor between my feet, his head resting on my knee.

"G-Gerard?" I asked, trying not to sound too fucking stunned, because I had definitely thought about Gerard between my legs before, but not exactly like this.

"Hey, Frankie," he said, leaning his head back against the sofa cushion and looking up at me through his eyelashes, and, okay, wow, his head was way too close to my crotch like that.

I tried to shuffle backwards as far as I could, clearing my throat awkwardly, "Uh, what are y- oh, fuck," I said, finally noticing the empty beer bottles sitting on the coffee table, and the half full one sitting next to Gerard's knee, and sprang up, somehow managing not to tread on Gerard in the process.

"Gerard- fuck," I said, picking up the empty bottles off the table and the half full bottle out of it's new position in Gerard's hand.

"Hey, I hadn't finished that," he said, pouting at me as I moved towards the kitchen.

"You're not supposed to be fucking  _drinking_ ," I said, pouring the leftover beer down the sink and throwing all the bottle into the bin.

"Whynot?" I heard him ask from the living room, the two words joining together in a slurred mess.

"Because you agreed with Mikey," I said, turning back to the living room, where he was now sitting on the sofa, one foot tucked underneath him, "that you were going to stop," I finished, sitting next to him and my breath fucking catching in my throat as he shifted closer, his knee pressed against my thigh.

He frowned, as if only just remembering, "Mikey's gonna kill me," he said, rubbing at his eyes.

"He won't, he's just- worried about you," I told him.

"He fucking-" he paused to hiccup. Fucking  _hiccup_. He was so drunk. And cute. But the latter was less important right then because I really needed to focus  _less_ on how close Gerard and I were, "-hates me right now."

"He doesn't hate you."

"He does," he said, shaking his head at nothing in particular, "he's mad at me, cause 'mnottalkingtoyou," he finished, his words slurring together again.

"We're talking right now," I said, probably missing the point.

"'s not what I mean," he said, shaking his head again and leaning his side against the back of the sofa, his face close to falling into my shoulder.

"What do you mean then?" I asked, but Gerard didn't seem to hear, and instead stared down at the floor, twirling his hair between his fingers. I should've known better than try to have a conversation with a drunk person.

"Why can't things be..." Gerard started trailing off, "...easy," he finished a few minutes later, turning to look up at me.

"What do you mean?" I asked again.

"Relationships, they s-suck," he said, dropping his head onto my shoulder. "Why can't things line up and w-work," he said, looking up at me.

"W-what?" I said, trying to calm my breathing and ignore that Gerard was  _right there_.

"No one's ever...right at the same time," he said, staring at somewhere low on my face. He really wasn't making sense.

"You-" I started, but was cut off by Gerard suddenly moving forward, bringing his mouth to meet mine. I got some warning, felt his breath brush my lips and his nose nudge against mine, and my mind managed to process it quick enough that I jolted backwards suddenly, before our lips touched.

"Sorry. Sorry, sorry," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head, "you have a-"

"Gerard," I interrupted, "you're drunk, you don't want this."

"A drunk person thinks what a sober person doesn't," Gerard said matter-of-factly.

"Gerard, I don't think that's how the saying goes," I told him.

"You know whaimean," he said, slurring again and waving his hand non-noncommittally.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," I said, helping him up off of the sofa and leading him back towards his bedroom.

"'m not tired," he said, trying to resist weakly and failing.

"You need to sleep," I told him, helping him back into his bed and covering him with the duvet.

"G'night," he mumbled, sticking his head in the pillow and falling asleep within seconds.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself, standing in the doorway and watching him for a minute or so, before turning back to the living room. That was definitely not how I expected that to go.

 

 

 

I pulled out my phone when I was back on the sofa, dialing Mikey's number.

"What is it?" Mikey asked, whispering, which probably meant he wasn't supposed to be taking calls right now, "Is Gerard okay?" 

"Yeah, uh, he- he got drunk," I said reluctantly, afraid Mikey would get pissed at me for being an idiot and actually  _letting_ Gerard get drunk.

" _What?_ How? I've thrown away all the alcohol I could find in the house."

"I guess he hid some," I said, shrugging even though he couldn't see me.

"He- where were you when this happened?"

"He was asleep so I just watched TV and ended up falling asleep and when I woke u-" I blabbered, trying to excuse myself.

Mikey sighed, interrupting me, "It's fine, Frank, just, is he okay now?"

"Asleep," I told him, chewing my lip and considering whether or not I should tell him about the almost kiss.

"Okay, keep an eye on him, I'll call you when I've got my break."

"Wait, Mikey-"

"Yeah?"

"Uh, how does- what's Gerard normally like when he's drunk?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"Like, how different is he from when he's sober?"

"Uh, well, he doesn't make much sense,  _at all_ , and he says a lot of shit, that mostly seems complete bullshit but it's actually very true."

"Does he ever do anything? Like, spontaneous shit that doesn't mean anything?"

"Frank, what did he do?"

"Nothing, nothing, seriously."

"You're such a bad liar."

"I'm not- he didn't do anything."

"Did he try to kiss you?" Okay, Mikey was definitely psychic. Or Gerard drunk-kissing people was pretty common.

"What? No. Why, is that normal for him?" I asked, knowing I was being a completely shit liar.

"It's- just, talk to him, when he's awake and sober," Mikey said.

"I- fine," I said, not even bothering to lie anymore. We quickly said goodbye and hung up, and I kept my phone out, dialing Jamia's number now instead.

"How's Gerard?" she asked upon picking up, I had explained everything that'd happened to her when she showed up at my apartment spontaneously while Gerard was still in the hospital and Mikey had made me go home because I hadn't left Gerard's side and was falling asleep every five seconds.

"He tried to kiss me," I told her; might as well just get it out there straight away.

"What?" she asked, the shock clearly showing in her voice, "What do you mean tried? I mean, him wanting to kiss you is good, right?"

"He was drunk, so I doubt it counts."

"A drunk mind speaks a sober heart," she told me, making me laugh.

"That's what Gerard had tried to say when I pulled away and said that it wasn't what he wanted," I explained, "except he messed it up royally."

"Well, there's only one way to find out what it meant."

"He's asleep, and still drunk."

"When he wakes up then."

"That's the second time someone's told me that in the past hour."

"Then do it."

"What if it meant nothing and I make a fool of myself?"

"I'm not telling you to fucking kiss him, I'm telling you to bring it up, besides, if he remembers, he'll probably bring it up himself."

"You can't guarantee that."

"Oh, just shut up and accept that he probably likes you," she said, and I knew she was rolling her eyes.

"He doesn't-" I started, but she'd already hung up.

I sighed, sliding my phone back into my pocket and turning my attention to the TV that was still on, anxiously checking Gerard's door every five minutes for any kind of movement, praying that he'd wake up sometime soon, and knowing that I probably wouldn't want to hear what he had to say.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting a while to write this. You guys'll like the beginning, but I'm not so sure about the rest of it.

"Hey, Frank," I heard a voice say from behind me, a few hours later, just after I'd raided Gerard and Mikey's fridge for a makeshift lunch.

I turned around as soon as I heard, and saw Gerard standing in the doorway of his bedroom, using the door frame as support.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, getting up off of the sofa.

"I need coffee," was all he said, rubbing at his eyes.

"Come on, I'll make you some," I told him, leading him towards the kitchen where he took a seat at the table, while I got to work with the coffee machine.

"Frank-" Gerard started, just as I had finished making the coffee, "we need to talk," he finished as I placed the coffee in front of him a took a seat opposite him.

"About what?" I said, already guessing what it was, but hoping I was wrong, and he had forgotten due to his drunken state.

"I tried to kiss you."

"So you remember," I said, looking down.

"Of course I fucking remember."

"Can't we just...forget about it? You were drunk, you didn't know what you were doing," I said, noticing Gerard's wince and flash of guilt when I said drunk.

He shook his head, "We can't just ignore this again, I don't want you to- to ignore me...like last time," he said running a hand through his hair.

"I'm really sorry," he continued when I didn't reply, "I shouldn't of put you in that position and I know I was drunk but I still shouldn't have done it because you're got a girlfriend and I  _knew_ that and-"

"What?" I interrupted.

"You-" he said, clearly confused by my confusion, "you and Jamia are-"

He stopped when I shook my head, "We're- we're not- we're just...friends," I said.

"But..." Gerard started, trailing off when he had nothing else to say.

"We met through a blind date, I was- my friend was trying to set me up so...so I could get over you," I admitted, avoiding his eyes that I could feel staring at me, "the date went well but we just kind of became friends instead...nothing happened between us, and my friend's plan definitely didn't work," I finished, getting up and taking our already empty coffee mugs to the sink, keeping my back facing him.

"You- but- are you sure she doesn't think there's anything between you?" Gerard asked, and I could feel him frowning at me from behind my back.

I let out a short laugh, "I doubt it, since a few hours ago she practically told me to kiss you because she's under some illusion that she thinks you like me."

"Frank-" Gerard said, and he was much closer now, and I hadn't even heard him stand up. I turned round to face him and okay, he was very close. "Mikey was right," he said, looking down at me.

"About w-what?" I asked, and I could feel Gerard's breath against my nose, meaning he could probably feel my shaky breaths against his chin.

"You are so fucking oblivious to shit sometimes," he said, and then he was kissing me. Like, actually fucking  _kissing me_. One second I had been focusing on trying to even out my breaths so Gerard wouldn't notice how shit I was at breathing when he was this close to me, and the next he was closing the distance between us and bringing his lips down to meet mine. It was like all my breath had been taken away with that one touch, and I stood for a few seconds, too stunned to react, before my brain finally fucking processed what was happening and I kissed him back, pulling my arms up to wrap around his shoulders. I leaned into him, pressing our bodies together, so that I could feel his heart beating fast against my own. I shifted my hand to the back of his neck so I could pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Gerard's hands were on my face, holding me close as he pushed me back slowly until my back was pressed against the counter. I pulled away for half a second, remembering that I needed to breathe, as much as I'd like to stay pressed against Gerard's lips until I ran out of oxygen, it was probably best if I didn't suffocate right now.

"You like me," I said breathlessly, feeling my lips brush against Gerard's as I spoke.

"Of course I do, you fucking idiot," he replied, breathing equally as hard, before pulling me back to him, easing my lips open with his tongue, earning a content sigh from me. I shifted my hands again, moving them up into Gerard's mess of hair, tangling my fingers in it and tugging slightly, evoking a whimpering moan from Gerard's mouth, and I smirked against his lips. Gerard's hands had moved away from my face, and started trailing lightly along my jaw and neck before moving further down. It was like my heart stopped beating entirely and I could no longer breathe as his hands brushed over the thin fabric covering my chest, before moving down and pausing at my hips, letting them rest there as he focused more on kissing me, his nose pressing into my cheek and nudging against my own as he tried to deepen it. His hands continued moving, lightly trailing down my legs until he reached behind my thighs and pulled me up, so that I was sitting on the counter in front of him.

"Gee-" I started, when Gerard took his lips away from my mouth to trail small kisses down my neck instead, but cut off when he sucked on the sensitive skin just above my collar bone, kissing it gently after, turning whatever I was going to say into a strangled gasp.

"Mmm?" he said into my neck, sending vibrations through the bone and making me shiver at the sensation.

"D-doesn't matter," I said, not willing to admit that I'd forgotten due to the fact that Gerard _really_  knew how to use his fucking mouth.

"'Kay," Gerard said, pulling away slightly, making me miss his warmth against my neck. He brought one hand up to my neck instead, his fingers tracing the scorpion inked there. "I love your tattoos," he told me, his breath ghosting over my jaw before his lips connected with mine again, our tongues twisting and moving together.

Gerard's hands had just started to drift down again when we both heard the front door opening, and moved away from each other as quickly as possible. "Fuck," Gerard muttered, resting against the counter on the other side of the room and attempting to smooth down his hair where my fingers had been entangled in it, as I jumped down off the counter and wiped at my lips, trying to remove any last remnants of saliva just as Mikey walked in.

He paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before him. "You two look very...flustered," he said, raising one eyebrow as he moved over to the fridge and started to unpack a bag of groceries I hadn't noticed before. 

"Wha- what do you mean?" Gerard asked, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Well, for one Frank's got a so not subtle bruise on his neck  _already_ ," Mikey said, making me slap a hand over my neck to cover up the mark Gerard had made. "A bit late for that," Mikey told me, seeing my reaction.

"So have you actually talked or were you just spontaneously making out?" Mikey asked when neither of us said anything.

"We weren't-" I started.

"You know there's no fucking point trying to deny it because it's so blatantly obvious that you have been," Mikey said, rolling his eyes at the two of us. I told you he was fucking psychic. "So have you talked?" he asked, to which Gerard shook his head in reply, "Okay, I'm gonna leave you alone to talk, and you  _need_ to talk, not just make out more. I would say go to Gerard's bedroom, but that could lead to any number of things and I don't want to be in the house if you two are gonna fuck," he said, and I felt my face flush as he walked out of the room, leaving me and Gerard alone again.

"Is that why Mikey made me stay away?" I asked, getting it out there straight away.

"Uh, yeah," he said, taking a seat at the table, "I told Mikey how I'd started to feel towards you and he saw what I was like around you, especially with Jamia there when I thought you two were-" he said, gesturing to illustrate his point, "and he thought it'd be best if I didn't see you for a while so I wouldn't do anything stupid or tear myself up with guilt about Lindsey."

"What happened between you two?" I asked, taking a seat opposite him and hoping there was some other reason for them breaking up other than me.

"It was- I just-" he tried to say, sighing, "I just suck at relationships," he finished, dropping his head into his hands.

"Me and Lindsey had been friends for a while before we got together," he continued, not looking up at me, "and when we finally did, at first it was amazing and it was like we were meant to be; everyone thought the same and all our friends and both our parents thought we'd end up getting married, especially mine, since I'd never managed to have a proper long-term relationship cause I always managed to fuck it up. But then, after a while, it just started to go downhill. It was mostly my fault. I've been depressed before, when I was younger, but never  _really_ bad, you know? But I guess something just triggered it at some point, because it all came flooding back. I lost my job because I was too fucking incompetent and my boss just got pissed at me all the time, so I had nothing to do all day and was left to wallow in self-pity all day with just my thoughts, which never helps, it's better when you've got something to  _do_ and distract yourself. And then, I don't know, I've always drunk, since I was a teenager, at least, but I've never really  _drunk_ , like, I've gotten drunk, sure, but only if I went to some kinda party or club or whatever. But then, I guess at some point I got drunk during this horrible unemployed depressed state, and I realised it  _helped_. It kind of took away the constant thoughts that would be hounding me, telling me I'm not good enough and just a fucking disappointment to everyone and it would distract me, it was like this relief from the pain of it all, so I didn't stop. Drinking, I mean. I ended up getting too reliant on alcohol entirely, I wouldn't go a day without it. I ended up in this perpetual state of drunkenness. 

"So, being drunk 24/7 and holding up any form of stable relationship doesn't really work, and I stopped talking to everyone, really, except Mikey because he's my brother and doesn't leave me alone, and there's the fact that I live with him. But even he would get annoyed by my inability to hold a conversation and my constant bad insults of him, everyone I saw and even inanimate fucking objects. So, my relationship was bound to go eventually. It didn't help that I was talking about you ninety percent of the time. But either way, I don't think it would've worked out between me and Lindsey, even if I'd been a good employee and kept my job, and didn't start drinking, and didn't fall for you. I just don't think it was meant to be. We make awesome friends, we can just talk to each other about anything for hours and hours, but we just don't really work as a relationship, I think. Or maybe I just don't really work with anyone, I never hold up a relationship more than two months, which my mother resents me for."

He paused, taking a deep breath and looking up at me, finally, "I don't think this is gonna work out, Frank."

"What? What do you mean?" I knew exactly what he meant, but I needed a reason. You can't just fucking make out with a guy after they've been crushing on you since you met, then tell them 'It's not gonna work out'. I thought everything had been going well, for once.

"I told you, I suck at relationships, and I don't- I don't want to mess this up, okay? You're one of the best friends I've had in a long time, Frank, and I don't want to lose you as I friend just cause I'm a sucky boyfriend and can't hold up a relationship."

"How do you know you suck at relationships? How do you know you just haven't found the right person yet?" I asked, and it was cheesy, I know, but I was desperate.

"And you're saying that you're the right person?" Gerard asked, raising his voice slightly, "How do you know that you could be the right person? How do you know you're not just some fling or a stupid crush and I'll be over you in a week?"

I sat for a minute, stunned, just staring at Gerard, not really believing the words that just came out of his mouth, "Thanks for that, Gerard. It's nice to know how much you care about me," I said, getting out of the chair quickly and turning to leave the room.

"Frank, wait, I didn't-" I heard Gerard call out behind me, but I was gone, practically running past a stunned Mikey and out of the apartment, up the stairs, and into my own apartment, slamming the door behind me and collapsing behind it, my knees drawn up to my chest and my back pressed against the door.

After a few minutes, I heard a quiet knocking, "Frank, please, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- I'm sorry," Gerard said, his voice muffled by the door.

I didn't reply, just tried to quieten my ragged breathing so he wouldn't know that I was right there.

"This is exactly what I didn't want to happen," I heard him say, quieter than before, more to himself than to me.

After another few minutes I opened the door, already knowing that he'd left, and stood for a minute, staring down the stairs, contemplating whether or not I should go down and speak to him. I shook my head to myself; Gerard had said those things, and meant them, without a doubt. So I stepped backwards, shutting the door in front of me, retreating back into myself. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikey verbally kicks Frank's ass, basically, and then he talks with Gerard. I'm pretty sure at least half the words that come out of Mikey's mouth are 'fucking'.

"I swear to fucking god Frank," Mikey said a few days later, bursting into my apartment while I was just having coffee, and I don't know how because I'm pretty sure I had locked the door, "I'm getting a really bad case of deja vu with this and it's just you being a fucking idiot all over again."

"What did I do?" I asked, taking in the pissed off look in Mikey's eyes.

"You know what the fuck you did, you're ignoring him _again_? It was fucking bad enough the first time round but now it's fucking ten times worse."

I didn't respond, just sipped at my coffee and avoided looking at him as he sat down opposite me.

"I had no idea you could be so fucking _selfish_. I mean, okay, you both like each other, but if Gerard says it won't work out and he just wants to friends, then you've got to respect that, and not just fucking cut him out of your life because he won't fuck you."

"It's not- I'm not that fucking shallow. It's just, he said-"

"I know what the fuck he said, Frank, he's told me every tiny detail, and he feels so fucking bad, you have no idea what you've done to him. He didn't mean what he said, and he's regretted it every second since. Besides, you're supposed to be his _friend_ and help him when he tried to fucking _commit suicide_ less than two weeks ago, not fucking ignoring him."

"It's been, like, four days," I said, trying to excuse myself, but already feeling guilty.

"And you know how bad he's been in those four days? Frank, I struggle with getting him out of fucking bed every day. He's only getting up to fucking piss, and he's barely eating because he's just consumed by this guilt that he's fucked up your entire friendship, and it's not exactly helping his _fucking depression_."

"Oh god, I didn't realise he- fuck," I said, feeling even guiltier, because Mikey was right and this was all my fault, just because I had overreacted.

"Frank, just promise me you're going to talk to him because that's all that fucking matters right now. You need to help him get better. Regardless of how you two feel about each other."

"I- what do I say, though? 'Sorry for overreacting, I'm still madly in love with you but let's be friends'? It's so fucking hard to be around him as it is, let alone when I _know_ he likes me but we can't be together."

Mikey sighed, "Listen, I don't really agree with Gerard, personally. I think he's just worrying too much and you two would work so much fucking better than any of his previous relationships, but when every relationship he's had has ended badly, he really doesn't want to risk it. Especially now, when he's in such a fragile state of mind, he's gonna be much less willing to take the risk. You guys can't not end up together, really; you have no idea how perfect you two are together. So, you've just got to wait it out, really. What he needs right now is a friend, no more. So be that friend, and when he's starting to get better, he might reconsider his choices."

"That's putting a lot of hope into something that _might_ happen."

"I'm sure you'd find a way to convince him. You're not exactly the least stubborn guy I know."

I let out a short laugh that didn't sound at all genuine or convincing; I was stressing too much about Gerard to actually laugh right now.

"Go down and talk to him now," Mikey said suddenly, "he's in bed but not asleep."

"But-"

"Go," Mikey said, giving me a meaningful look, "I'm going out anyway, _someone_ needs to get him out of bed, and I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can."

I sighed, reluctantly getting up as Mikey started tugging on my arm and dragging me out of the door. We walked out of the apartment and down the stairs together, but Mikey continued on downwards, and I nervously pushed open the door to Gerard's apartment. I walked straight to his bedroom, finding the door open, and seeing him lying in bed, piled under covers, his face pressed into the pillow.

I knocked gingerly on the door, not wanting to wake him if he was actually asleep.

"Mikey I told you I don't want to fucking talk so leave me alone, I'm not getting out of bed no matter what you seem to think," Gerard said, his voice muffled slightly by the pillow.

"It's, uh, it's me," I said, awkwardly hovering by the doorway.

"Frank?" Gerard said, managing to twist round and sit up in one swift movement, quickly smoothing down his hair and wiping at his face before he looked up at me with big eyes.

"Listen, I'm so sorry I ignored you and I shouldn't have it was stupid and I overreacted and I just-" I started, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a desperate attempt to apologise.

"No, I'm sorry," Gerard interrupted, getting off the bed and walking round in front of me, "I shouldn't have said that and I was just upset and I didn't mean it just- I'm sorry," he finished, pulling me into a hug, and, of course, he didn't smell particularly fresh after four days spent in bed, but he still smelled like _Gerard_.

We were hugging one second, Gerard's chin resting on my shoulder, and the next minute he managed to maneuver himself so his lips were pressed against mine, and we were kissing again, Gerard taking the breath out of me all over again. That was definitely the last thing I expected, and by the time I had processed what was happening, he was pulling away from me already.

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean- I shouldn't have done that," he said, avoiding my eyes and staring at my neck instead, where I later remembered the bruise he'd left still was.

"Gerard, are you- are you sure about this?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He sat down on the bed next to me, furrowing his eyebrows, "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

"You won't," I reassure him.

"What if I fuck it up like every other fucking thing I try to do," he said, sighing and putting his head in his hands, "seriously, Frank, I don't want to mess this up."

"You said so yourself your other relationships didn't work out for you cause you weren't right for each other. What if we are? Mikey agrees with me."

"Mikey just wants us to hook up."

"I don't think your brother wants any say in your sex life."

Gerard laughed quietly, "I still don't know, though," he said, becoming serious again.

"Listen, just, uh, think about it, please? I just...Mikey thinks we're right together," I said, not exactly wanting to say I think he's fucking perfect for me. Or maybe he's just perfect in general. Either way, I don't want imagine  _not_ being with him. It's reached the point that if I even consider the possibility of  _not_  getting an apartment together, and getting married and growing old together, my heart starts to do this horrible aching thing.

"You just don't want to admit you have a huge crush on me," he said, looking at me with the first genuine smile I'd seen in a while.

"I think it's a bit late to try and deny it," I said, subconsciously touching the still tender skin on my neck. "But, seriously, think about it," I said as I stood up and went to walk out the door, "I'm gonna convince you eventually, just you wait."

I heard Gerard's laugh behind me, though with a slight undertone of nervousness, as I walked back out the door. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank likes to ignore relationship protocols.

Over the next few weeks, Gerard started to get better; he saw a new therapist, who 'actually knew how to fucking deal with shit', in his opinion, he was back on antidepressants, which were ridiculously carefully monitored by Mikey, and he just got better in general. Sometimes he'd have bad days still, and he wouldn't want to leave his bed or refused to leave the sofa because he was watching reruns of Star Wars and binge eating, but there were good days as well. Sometimes, me and Mikey even managed to clean him up and drag him out of the house long enough to do a job interview. He hadn't actually _gotten_ a job yet, but we were still hopeful. Over time, the good days became more common, and the bad days sparser. Except today, today was a bad day. Not as bad as some, where he just wanted to sleep all day and not face anyone or anything, today he was just sitting on the sofa watching the TV and refusing to move. Which I decided to hopefully change by doing something I'd been considering for a while.

"Come on, Gerard, you're not spending another day on the sofa," I told him, after Mikey had given up and retreated to the kitchen. Admittedly, he hadn't had a day like this in a while, but that didn't mean there wasn't a lot of them at the beginning of all of this, "You're moving your ass and getting up."

"I don't want to," he said, not taking his eyes off of the screen.

"I need you to drive me somewhere."

"Mikey can drive you."

"I want _you_ to drive me though."

"You can't make me leave now; Frodo and Sam are just about to meet Faramir," he said, finally looking up at me from under the blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders.

I sighed, sitting down on the sofa next to him, "If I watch the end of the movie with you will you come with me after?" I asked, knowing there wasn't too much of it left, because honestly who wasn't memorised the majority of the plot of Lord of the Rings in this day and age?

"If you promise to watch the Return of the King with me when we get back."

I sighed again, "Fine," I didn't exactly mind, it had been a while since my last marathon.

"And the Hobbit tomorrow," Gerard added, not looking at me.

I rolled my eyes, "I feel like you're getting more out of this deal than I am."

"I know," he said, letting his head drop to the side and rest on my shoulder, making my breath catch in my throat. I'm pretty sure this overstepped friendship boundaries. Not that I really knew what our friendship or relationship was doing right now; we hadn't talked about it since I'd asked him to think about it, and nothing else had happened between us. This was pretty much the closest we'd been since. There'd been no more kissing, unfortunately.

 

 

 

 

The movie finished eventually, and the second the credits started rolling, Gerard looked up at me and gave me a meaningful look that meant 'we could watch the other one now', making me roll my eyes at him again.

"No way, you've got somewhere to drive me," I said, getting up off of the sofa and dragging him with me, the blanket falling to the floor, and I let out a sigh of relief when I saw he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt underneath, rather than just pajamas, which meant it wasn't actually a  _bad_ day, just a 'I don't want to move or leave the house' day, which, according to Mikey, is very common for Gerard, especially when he was a teenager.

"Do I have to?" he asked, rubbing at one of his eyes.

"Yes, it's important," I told him, tossing a pair of shoes at him as I put on my own.

 

 

 

After a lot of back and forth, we both were finally in the car, and Gerard started it up, the inside slowly warming up.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking at me sideways.

"I'll give you directions," I told him, making him bite his lip nervously.

"Can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"I honestly highly doubt you've ever been there, and thus don't know where it is."

"You could still tell me, instead of being all mysterious."

"If I told you, you wouldn't come."

Gerard sighed, his hands tightening on the wheel, "Great."

 

 

 

 

"You're not sending me to rehab or anything, are you?" he asked about ten minutes into the short journey, after completely silence except for my directions.

"Dude, no, we don't need to, you're clean now," I said, "right?" I asked as an afterthought.

"Yeah, course," he reassured me, "just Mikey doesn't seem to trust me on that front, and sending me to rehab without any warning seems like something he'd do."

"He just worries about you. Besides, he doesn't know about this."

"Why does that make me feel worse?"

"Just turn left here, it's literally on the corner," I told him, ignoring his question, which was probably rhetorical anyway.

"Oh, fuck no," Gerard said, once he'd stopped the car and looked over the store we were parked in front of, looking nervously at the flashing neon signs, screaming 'tattoos' and 'body piercings' in bright letters.

"Relax, I'm not forcing you to get a tattoo or anything," I told him.

"Then why the fuck did you drag me here?" he asked, his voice rising a few octaves.

"It's for me, okay, I'm getting a new tattoo and I needed someone to drive me."

"What about Mikey?"

"I wanted it to be you, it'll make sense in a bit."

Gerard just frowned at me, chewing his lip, "There's no way I can go in there, I don't wanna watch all the needles going into your skin and-" he started, getting cut off by a shiver and pulling a face instead of finishing.

I laughed, because it was hard not to, which just got Gerard to glare at me.

"You know I hate needles!" he said, his voice rising in pitch again, "I'm not making you go into a fucking pet shop with like, tarantulas and shit."

I shivered at the thought, but brushed it off quickly, "Relax, you don't have to come in with me, okay? It'll take an hour or so, so you can go get coffee or something, or go back to your apartment even, and I'll call you when it's done."

Gerard continued frowning and biting his lip for a bit longer before sighing and giving in, "Fine, I'll come back in an hour and wait until you're done, but there is _no way_ I am going in there to get you or anything."

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you," I reassured him as I climbed out of the car, "I'll see you in a bit," I said, smiling at his grumpy face before closing the door and walking round to the front of the store as Gerard drove off.

 

 

 

The tattoo was done quicker than I expected, but admittedly it was pretty simple. I thanked the artist and handed them the appropriate amount of money, before going back outside, where, sure enough, Gerard was waiting.

I climbed into the passenger seat, and the two of us sat in silence for what felt like years, Gerard just staring grumpily forward at nothing in particular, until he gave up, sighing and looking over at me.

"Can I see it?" he asked, glancing down at my wrapped up hand.

"That's what I was waiting for," I said, uncovering it and holding my hand out for him, which he took, holding it carefully from underneath, making my breath catch in my throat _again_  at the contact.

He stared at it for a bit, and I held my breath the whole while, partly because he was still _technically_ holding my hand, but mainly because I had no idea what his reaction would be.

After way too long, he seemed to finally process what the tattoo actually _was_ , and he stuttered out a, "Frank..." somehow managing to sound simultaneously out of breath, sad and happy.

"What do you think?" I asked, looking up at him hopefully, but he still hadn't torn his eyes away from the ink on my hand.

"This is- this is fucking _permanent_ , Frank!"

"I know."

"You just got my fucking name _tattooed on your hand!_ "

"I'm aware of that," I said, and he dropped my hand, so I pulled it back, covering it up again.

"You're not- you're supposed to _do_ that even if you're fucking married in case, like, something happens, and you just got my hand tattooed _in a heart_ on your fucking hand where _everyone can see_ , and _we're just friends!_ "

"I...yeah, I know," I said, I didn't mind his reaction, it was understandable, but those last three words definitely stung a bit.

"You know what, nevermind, we'll talk back at my apartment, I just need to...think," Gerard said, starting the car. "Just, uh, don't show Mikey yet, okay? I wanna...talk, first," he finished, and I nodded as he pulled out of the parking space, and drove back to our apartment building.

 

 

 

"Oh, you got a new tattoo," Mikey said when we got back, noticing my hand, "what did you get? Can I see?"

"Uh, not right now?" I said, glancing at Gerard to judge his expression, and find out whether he had started to look pissed off or still just confused and stunned as hell, but, for once, he was hard to read.

"Okay?" Mikey said, looking understandably confused, and even more so when Gerard dragged me by the wrist towards his room, without a word. He pushed me into his room, shutting the door behind him, and I prayed that these walls were at least slightly soundproof if Gerard was gonna yell, which wasn't very likely considering how thin the floors are. Gerard stood opposite me, staring with a still unreadable expression, and I took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, whatever that may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I may have stole the idea of this from Frank and Jamia but oh well, it's a cute story so I couldn't resist.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Frank...talk.

"I hate you," Gerard said, standing in front of the closed door, a few feet in front of me.

"I think you know I don't exactly feel the same way," I said, holding up my newly tattooed hand for emphasis.

"Shut up, you're such a dick," he said, pushing me gently in the chest, but still sending me stumbling back a few steps because I wasn't really expecting it. "I can't believe you did that," he added, stepping forwards so we were the same distance apart again, and something seemed to have changed in the air between us since we were in the car, when he was practically yelling at me, even though all he had done was insult me now, he didn't seem so passionate about it.

"I don't know why  _I'm_ a dick, all I did was get a tattoo, it's not like I tattooed _my_ name on _you_."

"Shut up," Gerard said again, stepping closer to me again, so now I could feel his breath on my face as he stared at my eyes.

I tried to respond, even opening my mouth to do so, but I came up short, because it was really fucking hard when he was  _right there_.

Before I could think about what the close proximity meant, Gerard was stepping away again, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I fucking hate you," he said, leaning against a different wall, so that he was facing the bed.

"I still don't get why this makes you hate me," I said, moving round to sit on the edge of the bed, facing Gerard.

"You got my name  _tattooed on you!"_ he said, his voice rising ever so slightly.

"That's really not explaining it for me any better."

"It's fucking...confusing, Frank!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, losing my smug and sarcastic air, because he knew I liked him so how the fuck could it be confusing?

"It's- these past few weeks, it's been at the front of my mind because you told me to think about it, so I did and I had no fucking idea what to do, and I was just completely stuck," he said, running a hand through his hair again, but all I could think was about the fact that he was using  _past tense_ and that could mean he had decided to just be friends or to be  _more_. Though, the former was probably more likely if this pissed him off, "and Mikey  _sucks_ at giving advice, honestly, but last night I thought I had decided, and had it figured out but then he said something that I hadn't even  _thought_ of, and it made me fucking reconsider everything, and my previous decision seemed so fucking stupid but I had to stick with it and ignore every fucking gut feeling I had ever had because it'd be better for me in the long run and it's less risky and _that's_ why I didn't want to do anything this morning, and I shouldn't of put my head on your shoulder like that but I'd agreed with myself that it'd be the last kind of  _anything_  that happened between us, but then you went and got that fucking  _tattoo_ and you messed up everything in my head again and god I fucking  _hate_ you," he finished, slightly out of breath, stepping forward and pushing me,  _again_ , by my shoulders, so I fell against the bed. But then he was  _following me_ and was  _on fucking top of me_.

"You're such a jerk," he said quietly, before pulling me into a rough kiss, sloppy and desperate.

"You think - that I'm - just waiting around - for you to kiss me?" I said, with any gaps between the kiss, surprised at myself for even managing that because Gerard was kissing me, _again_.

"You're the fucking stubborn asshole who's been trying to get me to do just that," he replied, pulling away slightly to brush his hair away from his face before he returned to practically  _attacking_ my mouth, our breath mingling as our tongues moved together. Not that I was complaining, because I definitely wasn't.

"You seem to have been wanting this more than me," I said, managing to pull away for long enough to get out the one sentence, which I thought was pretty impressive considering I was  _under_ Gerard, and I couldn't quite believe that as it was.

"Shut up," he said, practically into my mouth.

"Gerard, wait-" I said, pushing him off me reluctantly. He sat back on his heels, giving me a weird look, and I tried to sit up at least a little bit so that I wasn't just laying on the bed while he knelt between my legs.

"What?"

"Are you sure about this? I don't it to be just another kiss that you're impulsively doing that'll make me feel even worse about everything afterwards."

Gerard sighed, "I had honestly decided it was best if we didn't get together, I'd thought it over and over and I'd fucking  _decided_ , but then Mikey made me rethink  _all_ of that, and after that the only way I could rationalise to myself why I still thought we shouldn't get together was that maybe you didn't reciprocate this equally or if we got together you'd realise how boring I am after a week and then get fed up of me and-"

"Gerard, I'm not gonna get fed up of you," I reassured him, taking his hand.

He just bit his lip, frowning at me slightly, before continuing, "But then you got that tattoo and- you're serious about this."

"One hundred percent."

"What if I'm a terrible boyfriend?"

"From the tiny snippets I've gotten you're definitely not terrible."

"That was just kissing."

"There was other stuff, like when we were watching the movie, and other, small things, and when there was that storm you tried to unconsciously cuddle me," I said, laughing at the embarrassed face Gerard made, "Besides, you're a fucking amazing person, Gee, and I love spending time with you and I don't see why that would change just because we started dating."

Gerard still looked unsure, his eyebrows drawn together slightly.

"I can't back out of this anyway, I've got your name tattooed on my hand, so it's too late for me," I joked, leaning forward so that our lips were barely inches away. "Do you want to do this?"

"You're such a fucking stubborn asshole," Gerard whispered, leaning forward against me so we fell back onto the bed again, "yes, yes, I want to fucking do this. Don't make me regret it or Mikey will kill you," he said, smirking at me before bringing me back into a kiss, slower and more drawn out than the last one, our lips just moving against each other slowly.

"If we're gonna do this," I said, as Gerard pulled away to take a deep breath, "I want to do it right."

"Mmm?" Gerard said, his lips against my jaw, sending vibrations through me.

"Let's go on a date."

"Really?" Gerard said, leaning back ever so slightly to look at me.

"You look like you've never been on a date before."

"Well, it's been a while," Gerard admitted, looking down, which didn't work very well because he just ended up looking at my chin.

"What about Lindsey?" I asked, and way to go Frank, talk about a guy's ex girlfriend while he's on top of you. What a great move.

"It was only ever really concerts and stuff," he said, sitting back again, and okay, I had that coming.

"So, not a concert, what do you want to do? A restaurant?" I asked, pulling myself up with my arms so I was sitting upright again.

"Okay," Gerard said, breaking into a smile, "when?"

"Well, it's starting to get late already," I said, glancing out the window, "so today? Like, as soon as you're ready."

"Why do you say as soon as  _I'm_ ready, like I'm guaranteed to take longer than you?" Gerard asked, sliding off the bed and smirking at me.

I rolled my eyes at him in response, following him off the bed, "I'll take like two seconds just to change into something nicer."

"Okay, yeah, you'll be quicker," Gerard said, opening the door, "I'm gonna shower," he told me, turning down the hallway and walking to the bathroom, and I turn to the other side, walking to the living room and trying to hide my shock.

"Hey," Mikey said when I sat down next to him, "did you enjoy your make out session?"

"What? We were just talking," I said, wiping at my lips in case anything there gave it away.

"For one, don't wipe at your mouth if you've just been accused of kissing someone and are trying to deny it, because that just proves that you  _were_ , two, I could hear your voices talking and then you both went completely silent, which kinda speaks for itself, and three, the back of your hair is a fucking mess, meaning Gerard was probably on top of you on his bed which I really don't want to picture."

"Okay, Sherlock fucking Holmes."

"So where is he now?"

"Showering."

"You got Gerard to shower  _of his own free will?_ _"_

"I was surprised as you are, honestly."

"I told you that you two were good for each other, it's been like five minutes and he's already _showering,_ " Mikey said, "why is he, anyway? Not that I'm complaining, he needs to smell better."

"We're going on a date," I said, not bothering to conceal my smile when Mikey raised his eyebrows.

"Where to?"

"Just some restaurant," I said, shrugging.

"Listen, Frank," Mikey said, his voice lowered and checking over his shoulder before continuing, "thanks so much, these past few weeks, you've helped a ton and you really didn't have to and it would've been so much harder without you, so thank you, and I know I've probably been a bit of a dick sometimes when something happened between you and Gerard but I just wanted to make sure he's okay so...yeah, sorry. And I'm sorry for making you ignore him, I really shouldn't have done that."

"Mikey, it's fine honestly, each of those times you gave me the kick up the ass I needed to stop being an idiot, and I could've made things so much worse in that month, we don't know."

"You probably would've made it better though, you have no idea of the effect you have on him, and how much he cares about you."

I looked down, trying not to blush, "Either way, it doesn't matter, it's in the past and he's okay now and that's all that matters, really."

"Yeah, definitely, now we've just gotta look after him and make sure he stays that way," Mikey said, staring at me for a while, "anyway, you need to get changed, you have a date."

"Oh, yeah, I probably should," I said, standing up and starting to make my way towards the door, "if I've told Gerard we're going to a restaurant, how fancy is he likely to dress?"

"Well, he's probably just gonna come in here and quiz me for hours on what he should wear then spend another few hours decided for himself, so you decide and I'll let it influence my decision."

"Uh, I'll just wear like jeans and a button down and a tie or something, so something like that," I told him.

"Okay, agreed."

"Thanks," I said, pulling the apartment door open and half stepping out.

"I can't believe you're putting me through this, he's like a thirteen year old girl when it comes to dates," Mikey called out behind me, making me laugh.

"Enjoy!" I called back, pulling the door closed.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just a pretty short filler chapter, really.

"So guess what worked that you said wouldn't work but totally did work?" I asked Ray over the phone, while taking the stairs up to my apartment.

"You got the tattoo?" Ray asked in reply, and I could hear the surprise in his voice; I had been talking to him about it for a while beforehand, and considering whether or not I should get it done, and the entire time he kept telling me he didn't think I'd go through with it.

"Yeah, and it totally fucking  _worked_ , dude," I told him, not even attempting to hide my excitement as I reached the top floor and went into my apartment.

"What happened?"

"I made him drive me there."

" _You made him drive you?"_  

"Yeah, I thought he was pissed at first, because he was already grumpy that I hadn't told him we were going to a tattoo parlour until we were actually there, and then when I came out he seemed really annoyed at me, but then we went back to his apartment and he dragged me to his room to talk, and he was still annoyed, and was telling me about how he'd been thinking everything through and I'd messed up his decision and everything but then he practically fucking attacked me."

" _Attacked_ you?"

"Well, not  _attacked,_ but, like, he kissed me very suddenly and...violently?"

"Ew, if this is some weird ass kink you two have got..."

"No, dude, just like passionate making out, that's all."

"Okay, that's as detailed as I need. So, did you just kiss or what?" Ray asked, "And no, I'm not asking if you two had sex because I  _really_ don't need to know, just have you two talked?"

I laughed at the clear disgust in his voice, "Yeah," I told him, "we're going on a date," I finished, the smile evident in my voice.

"Fucking finally, dude, that's awesome," he said, "now maybe you'll talk about him less."

"I'm gonna talk about him ten times more often just for that."

"Great," Ray said, and I knew him well enough to know that he was rolling his eyes, "if you two are dating now, I want to actually meet him properly, rather than just backstage at a concert."

"God, you sound like my dad."

"Your dad personally or just I'm acting like a dad to you."

"You're acting like a dad to me, jeez you're so specific."

"Saves any misunderstandings."

"Whatever," I said, rolling my eyes, "now I need help."

"If you're gonna ask me for advice on what to wear then call Jamia because I am in no way gonna help with that."

"Ugh, fine, you're so boring," I said, hanging up without saying goodbye and before he got the chance to, and instead dialing Jamia's number.

"Did it work?" she asked the second she had picked up; she had known I was getting the tattoo when I was getting it because I'd texted her while I was waiting for the artist to set up.

"It worked amazingly."

"What did he say?"

"Well, at first he was pissed and didn't say much except about how I shouldn't have done it, until we got back to his apartment, and he took me to his room to talk," I told her, which she made suggestive noises at, making me roll my eyes, "and then he said stuff about how he'd been thinking it over and everything and how I'd messed up his decision and all that shit, and then he kissed me."

"Holy shit, tell me  _everything_ ," she said, and this is the difference between guys and girls.

So I did, and I probably gave her too many details but she wanted to hear them all, and it didn't really matter cause nothing  _happened_ , because I definitely wouldn't be going into detail with anyone about that.

"Now I need to decide what to wear," I said, once I'd caught Jamia up with everything that had happened, even the fact that Gerard was actually showering, to which she made a sarcastic or probably not-so-sarcastic comment about how I should've joined him and I told her something that wasn't exactly the politest thing in the world.

"Where are you going?"

"A restaurant."

"Do you know what he's gonna wear?"

"Uh, smart-casual stuff, I guess? I told Mikey I was gonna wear a button down and jeans or something."

"So wear that."

"Yeah, but  _which_ _?_ _"_

"Oh my god, you're like a teenage girl."

"Shut up," I said, "just help."

 

 

 

Eventually I was ready, with the help of Jamia, and dressed in my typical pair of black skinny jeans, along with a dark grey button-down shirt pushed up to my elbows and a black tie, which I was surprised I still remembered how to tie, and then I made my way back downstairs, hoping Gerard would be ready.

"That was a painful experience," Mikey told me when he opened the door, stepping aside, "he's probably putting on makeup or something, I don't know, he'll be out in a minute."

I stepped inside, awkwardly waiting by the door until Gerard came out, "I feel like I'm in high school all over again, and I'm not sure why."

"Do you want me to give you my blessing?" Mikey asked, looking over at me sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Shut up."

Before Mikey could come up with some witty retort, Gerard was stepping out into the hallway, and no matter how cheesy it was, I couldn't help my surprise at how fucking gorgeous he looked. He had done  _something_ with his hair, so that it framed his face perfectly. Or maybe that's just what it looked like when it was actually clean. He was wearing black jeans too, but they were  _much_ tighter than mine, and left absolutely nothing to the imagination, which I couldn't really complain about, and a white shirt, black waistcoat and tie. Of course he could pull off a fucking  _waistcoat_.

"Ready?" he asked, beaming at me.

"Definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be really busy this week, because I have an exam on thursday and lots of coursework due friday so I probably won't be able to upload the next chapter as soon as normal, so sorry in advance for making you guys wait but hopefully it'll be worth it


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Frank's date part one.

"You honestly don't have to open the door for me, Frank," Gerard said, "it's my car, anyway."

"I don't care, I'm still gonna do it," I told him, waiting for him to actually get out of the car.

Gerard rolled his eyes, climbing out and shutting the door behind him before I could, shooting me a triumphant look.

"This is fancy," he commented as we walked inside, looking around.

"It's the only decent place I know that isn't a bar or Starbucks, my friend suggested it," I told him, though it'd be more accurate to say that I didn't shut up until Ray reluctantly agreed to help me find somewhere that I could go with Gerard.

"Table for two, sir?" a waiter asked, appearing out of pretty much fucking nowhere.

"Uh, yeah," I said, and he began to lead us between the other tables to an empty one near the centre of the room. The waiter pulled a chair out for each of us, and disappeared again after handing us both a menu.

"I think all these snobs are annoyed at us for destroying their perfect little bubble," I whispered to Gerard, noticing the not-so-subtle stares.

"I don't think they can handle the fact that not only is there a gay couple within their line of sight, but we also happen to have dyed hair and tattoos," he replied, and I couldn't help but feel my heart jump a little when he called us a couple, despite it being the only real word you could use in that sentence without a lengthy explanation.

"Oh, those poor, homophobic souls," I said, mostly directing it at the older couple the table across from us, where they seemed to be arguing over whether or not they should leave, slightly too loudly, while both staring at us.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Gerard said, pulling my attention back to him, "let's not let them ruin our first date."

"You're right," I said, glancing down at the menu, "what do you want?"

"Uhm," he said, looking down himself, "this is all so fancy, I don't even know what half this shit even is."

I laughed slightly at his furrowed eyebrows as he stared in confusion at the menu, "Would it be horribly inappropriate to just eat a starter, because those are the only things I can understand enough to guarantee that they won't be gross as hell, then get coffee or something?"

"God, yes please, I could kiss you for suggesting that, I thought I was gonna have to try some weird ass stuff."

"Don't be so forward, this is a first date, remember," I said, smirking at him.

"Shut up, like we weren't making out in my bedroom barely an hour ago," Gerard said, rolling his eyes at me and earning a few disgusted looks from another nearby table that could hear us.

"What do you think about nachos?" I asked, ignoring his last comment in an attempt not to blush.

"Nachos are awesome."

"I mean for us to eat, like, now."

"Oh right, yeah, that's cool," Gerard said, grinning at me sheepishly.

I shook my head, giving up on trying not to laugh at him, and instead focused on trying to catch the eye of the waiter so we could make our order.

Eventually he came over, and I ordered the nachos and a coke for both of us, before he disappeared into the kitchen again.

"So, Frank," Gerard said, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hands, "what do you do?" he asked, somehow sarcastically and weirdly provocatively.

I let out a short laugh, before I covered my mouth and managed to contain it, which was hard due to the face that Gerard was pulling. "You know what I do," I said, composing myself.

"Fine, how's you're band then?" he asked, more serious now.

"Well, we finished the album, but we kinda broke up."

"What?" Gerard asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"It's fine, seriously, it wasn't huge or anything, we just realised we weren't gonna go anywhere after our first album."

"But, what're you doing now then?"

"I'm just in a couple of side bands at the moment," I explained to him, "I think me and a friend might start something soon that we were talking about but I'm not sure, really."

Gerard nodded, "I still wanna hear you sing," he said, making me groan and almost hit my head against the table, because I was sure he'd forgotten about that, "you've heard me sing, it's only fair."

"I heard you sing for like five seconds before you noticed I was there."

"Yeah, but you sing for a living."

"I play guitar as well."

Gerard sighed, "You're so stubborn."

"I know, it's great, isn't it?" I said, giving him a big smile that he just rolled his eyes at.

We talked for a bit longer, mostly about nonsense, until the waiter arrived, placing the plate of food between us and handing us our drinks.

"Enjoy your meal," he said, turning to walk away.

"Thanks, you too," Gerard said, just as the waiter was walking out of earshot, before promptly slamming his head against the table. "Did I actually just say that?" he asked, lifting his head off the table slightly and replacing it with his hands, though I could still see the bright red his skin had flushed between his fingers.

I laughed, I couldn't help it, because it was pretty funny, and Gerard was probably the cutest person I knew, and his embarrassment was only adding to that. Fuck probably, I decided, when Gerard moved his hands away from his face slightly and pulled a face at me, he was without a doubt the cutest person I knew. Maybe on this planet.

"It wasn't funny," Gerard said, pouting.

"It so was funny," I told him, trying to hide my smile.

"It wasn't!" he said, his voice rising in pitch slightly, "He's probably laughing about me with all his waiter friends right now."

"If they come out here and laugh at you I'll punch them in the face."

Gerard smiled slightly, before pouting again, "You were laughing at me."

"We're on a date, I have a right to laugh at you."

"That doesn't normally give a good first impression."

"I think we've known each other for long enough that we don't need to worry about first impressions anymore."

"Shut up," Gerard said, kicking my foot under the table.

I rolled my eyes, "Come on, the food's gonna get cold," I told him, kicking him back.

Gerard looked down, as if only just remembering we actually had food on the table, and started picking at it.

 

  
We finished not long after, because neither of us had realised how hungry we were until we'd actually started eating.

"Let's go before all these people actually bore holes into us from all the staring," Gerard suggested, glancing round at the other tables.

"You didn't exactly help them by fucking choking on your drink earlier," I said, looking at the coke covered napkin sitting next to Gerard's glass.

"You didn't help me by making me laugh while I was drinking!"

"I didn't know I was gonna make you laugh," I said, shrugging.

Gerard rolled his eyes, and got the attention of one of the waiters walking past, asking for the bill.

"No way, you're not paying," I told him, when he started to reach for his wallet after the waiter came back and handed it to him.

"Yes I am, this is a date, I'm gonna pay."

"No fucking way," I said, grabbing the bill out of his hands, "I'm the more financially stable one right now."

"Dude, you're like, broke."

"But less so than you," I said, taking out my own wallet, "you're living off Mikey right now so I'm not gonna make him pay for our date."

"I'm not living off Mikey!"

"Gerard, it's fine, seriously, wait till you get a job again," I said seriously, giving him a meaningful look.

He sighed, "Fine, but I'm not letting you pay for coffee."

"You're not gonna have a choice," I told him, handing the bill and money back to the waiter when he passed. "Come on," I said, standing up and pulling him out of his chair, "let's go somewhere less fancy and more fucking accepting," I finished, glaring at the room in general.

Gerard laughed, taking my hand and interlacing his fingers between mine as we stepped out of the restaurant.

"Fuck, it's cold," I said, shivering.

"You're an idiot, you should've brought a jacket," Gerard said, leaning into me slightly, his body heat already warming up my side.

"You didn't bring a jacket," I said, leaning further into his heat as we walked.

"That's cause I don't start fucking freezing if it's so much as one degree less than my body temperature."

"Shut up, you're like a fucking hot water bottle."

"I can warm you up then," he said, resting his head against mine for a few seconds, and I would've preferred to stay like that for longer, but walking along like that is really fucking hard.

I didn't reply, just shifted as close as I could get to him without tripping us both up, trying absorb as much of his body heat as possible until we reached the nearest Starbucks.

"Ready for part two?" Gerard asked when we were finally outside the door, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Of fucking course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It hasn't even been a week and yet I've honestly missed writing this so much so I'm glad I'm finally free enough to do so, and hopefully I'll be back to updating often again, but I can't make any promises because I have a lot of artwork I need to do for my GCSE's but I'll try my best.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard and Frank's date part two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case someone still hasn't watched lotr and is worried about spoilers, you may not want to read like one sentence at the end of this.

"It's busier than I expected in here," Gerard said, returning from the counter with our coffees and sitting back down.

"I guess I'm not the only one who gets cold in the middle of the fucking winter," I said, blowing on the top of my drink to cool it down before I took a sip, welcoming the heat of the steam.

"Or maybe lots of people just like coffee."

"Yeah, but no one has as big a coffee dependency as you."

"Shut up," Gerard said, smiling despite himself.

We sat in silence for a while, idly sipping at our drinks, until I decided to speak up. "It's weird going on a  _first_ date with someone you've known for so long," I said, and it was true. It definitely  _was_ weird; I had known Gerard for months and we'd only ever been friends, so it was weird. Especially since for the entire duration of our friendship I'd had the biggest fucking crush on Gerard known to man. I still couldn't really wrap my head around the fact that this was  _happening_. I was on a  _date_ with  _Gerard_. The cute guy who I couldn't stop thinking about after the first time I met him. The guy who's terrified of thunderstorms and ended up sleeping in my bed because he didn't want to be alone. The guy who had ten thousand comics and had read each of them at least 50 times. The guy who I had constantly thought about despite knowing that he had a girlfriend, and had one too many dreams about him that I'd rather not share. The guy who's name I had just tattooed on my hand in an attempt to prove to him that this was going to work and it  _worked_. _  
_

"I haven't known you  _that_ long. Not as long as like, Pete and everyone," Gerard said, shrugging.

"Mikey would probably kill you if you tried to go on a date with Pete though."

Gerard laughed and then went silent again, draining the last of his coffee. "Good or bad weird?" he asked, out of nowhere.

"Good," I answered, probably way too quickly.

Gerard smiled, looking down, but not fast enough so that I didn't see the red rise to his cheeks.

"I know we just got here," he said, looking up again, "but do you want to go back to my apartment? We've still got a four and a half hour movie to watch," he said, smirking at me.

I laughed, "How could I forget," I said, rolling my eyes and standing up, Gerard following. It had honestly felt like years since I'd agreed with him that I'd watch the movie tonight. A lot had happened in the time between then and now.

"It's the best of the three, we can't skip it," Gerard shrugged, stepping out the door with me and laughing when I shivered, but moving closer to me nonetheless.

"Fine, but I'm probably gonna fall asleep because I have no endurance with watching long movies, whatsoever."

"Haven't you ever had a Lord of the Rings marathon before?"

"I've seen each movie like a hundred times, but I've always done it over a few days."

"Oh my god, seriously?" Gerard asked, actually stopping to turn and look at me, when we were literally just a few steps away from the car where there was _heat_. 

I just shrugged, hoping he hadn't noticed the fact that my teeth were probably about to start chattering.

"One day I'm gonna sit you down and we're gonna have a full on marathon and you are _not_ going to fall asleep," Gerard said, continuing forwards and unlocking the car, before climbing into the driver's seat as I got into the passenger seat.

"I can't promise that I'll be able to do that," I told him, feeling better now that the heating was on.

"I'll make sure of it," he said, giving me a determined look before frowning, probably noticing that I was still shivering. He reached forward and grabbed one of my hands, and I tried not to look too relieved at the heat passing through his own hands. "Fucking hell, Frank, you're freezing."

I shrugged, again, "I get cold easily."

"I can't believe you didn't bring a fucking jacket," Gerard said, grabbing my other hand and rubbing them both between his.

"You sound like my mother," I said, trying not to look so surprised as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me as close as you could get in the front seats of a car.

"Your mother's a smart woman," he said into my shoulder, "I don't want you to catch fucking pneumonia or something."

"I'm not gonna catch pneumonia if I've got a fucking hot water bottle hanging out with me."

"Good," Gerard said, now into my neck, and I had just enough time to process what was happening before his lips were on mine again, the heat of his mouth warming me up quickly.

"Fuck," he said, breaking away slightly, "it's like kissing a ghost."

"Shut up, I'm not that cold."

"Not anymore," he said, pulling me back towards him.

"Gerard," I said, practically into his mouth, reluctantly pulling away again, "let's go home first; car's aren't great for kissing," I finished, pulling back completely so I was sitting normally again, and my hips weren't twisted into a weird position or digging into the gear stick.

"Ugh, fine," Gerard said, moving back to face the wheel, and pulling out of the parking space.

 

 

 

"Did you seriously just lock me in the car so you could open the door for me?" I asked once we'd parked outside our apartment building, and Gerard had opened the door for me after I spent a few seconds attempting and failing to do so.

"I may have," he said, waiting until I was out of the car to shut the door and push me up against it.

"Not - outside - either," I said, broken apart by Gerard's kisses, "otherwise I  _will_ get pneumonia."

"Fine, but I'm only agreeing because I care about your well being," he said, stepping back and pulling me towards the door, inside and up the stairs.

"Why are you so intent on kissing me?" I asked once we had almost reached the top of the last staircase, "I'm  _definitely_ not complaining, but-"

"You have a very kissable face," Gerard said, as we reached the outside of his door, "and I'm making up for lost time," he finished, stepping very close, but not kissing me, yet.

"It's not that much lost time, for you."

"More than you think," he said, leaning forward slightly, but then stepping back, much to my surprise, as if he'd changed his mind. "Let's get inside," he said, knocking on the door, even though he probably had his keys, "I'm pretty sure Mikey's still home, but don't think that means I'm not gonna relentlessly make out with you in there."

I laughed, just as the door was pulled open to reveal Mikey. 

"Sorry," he said, and I was relieved to see Gerard was as confused as me about the apology, "I thought you guys might wanna be alone, or whatever, so I suggested going out with some of the guys but they just came here instead. I've tried to get them to leave, but, yeah," he finished, stepping aside to reveal Pete and everyone, the two guys I had met before but couldn't seem to remember the names of, and two guys I didn't recognise at all.

"Frank, you might remember Tyler and Josh, and this is Brendon and Dallon," Mikey said, gesturing at them each respectively, "guys, this is Frank, Gerard's...whatever, I don't know," he finished, giving some vague hand gesture before going to sit back down.

"What?" Joe said, looking between me and Gerard, "Did I miss something and you two have been dating this whole time because I'm pretty sure-"

"We just got back from our first date," Gerard explained, somewhat awkwardly, and sat down on one of the sofas, giving me a look that told me to follow.

"I knew it," Tyler said.

"What?" I asked, because I'd seen him for like ten minutes, months ago.

"Dude, when we first met you could've cut the sexual tension with a knife," he explained, as if it was obvious.

"It's true, and Tyler wouldn't shut up about how cute a couple you guys would make for ages after," the other guy, Josh, added.

"Well...yeah," Tyler admitted.

"We're gonna watch the Return of the King, by the way," Gerard said, standing up and moving over to the TV, "cause Frank owes me for making me drive him to the tattoo parlour."

"What did you get?" Brendon asked.

"Uh..." I stuttered, not sure whether Gerard would prefer I show them or not, or how they'd react. I looked over at Gerard, who shrugged but then gave me a small nod, "it's, uh, here," I said, uncovering it and holding out my hand so each of them could see.

Everyone seemed to have positive or sarcastic reactions, which was fine, except Mikey, who seemed to be giving me some kind of weird half-frown, half-glare.

"Mikey doesn't have a very high approval of significant-other related tattoos," Pete explained, noticing the face Mikey was pulling.

"That's cause they're fucking stupid and just jinx it," Mikey said, still frowning.

"Mikey, it's fine, it's not always like that," Gerard said, looking nervously between me and Mikey, and I quickly covered my hand back up again, as if that helped.

"Still doesn't mean it doesn't happen."

"Don't let your own experiences make you fucking bitter about it," Gerard said, coming back to sit down next to me, and I notice for the first time the uneven colours beneath the tattoo on Mikey's forearm, and I was acquainted enough with tattoos to know that meant something had been covered up, and Pete's awkward expression was enough explanation.

"Gerard-" Mikey started.

"Just watch the movie,  _please_ ," Gerard said, giving Mikey a look that probably meant something in Way-brother language but I had no way to decipher it.

Mikey didn't respond, just rolled his eyes and turned to the screen, where a scene I had seen way too many times and probably knew off by heart had started up, and I sighed contentedly, leaning into Gerard as Smeagol started to murder his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This felt pretty rushed and sorry that it's a bit short but I'm too tired to change it cause I want to focus on the next chapter, which most of you guys should definitely like.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to give anything away with a summary but you'll probably guess what's gonna happen pretty quickly.

"Fraaank," I heard Gerard say, or more, I felt Gerard say, since his face was pressed into my shoulder, so I could feel the vibrations running up my neck.  
  
"Mmm?" I said, not wanting to open my eyes or even move my mouth.  
  
"Wake up," he said, "the movie's finished and everyone's gone."  
  
"Everyone?" I asked, opening my eyes reluctantly to look down at him where he was half lying down, his side resting against mine.  
  
"Yeah, Mikey's gone over to Pete's," Gerard said, looking up at me, "probably for the night," he added, pulling a face.  
  
I laughed slightly, careful not to disturb Gerard's position, "Did everyone get bored of the movie, then?"  
  
"People can only handle so much," he said, shifting up slightly so that his head was almost level with mine, and started lightly moving his lips along my jaw.  
  
"Your factual commentary probably didn't help," I told him, trying to keep my breath even.  
  
"Mmm," Gerard said, sending more vibrations through me, "whatever. I'm gonna make coffee," he said, suddenly, jumping up and moving into the kitchen, and I tried not to sigh at the loss of contact.  
  
"Isn't it, like, way too late for coffee?" I asked, following him.  
  
"It's never too late for coffee," Gerard shrugged, flicking the machine on and watching it.  
  
"Was everything with Mikey okay?"  
  
"Yeah, he's fine, I think it was just the surprise of it pissed him off a bit, he hasn't really got great experience with those sort of tattoos," he explained, and I decided not to push it any further, no matter how curious I was.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," I said, not really intending to, after a few moments for silence, excluding the sound of the whirring coffee machine.  
  
"What do you mean?" Gerard asked, turning round to face me where I was leaning against the counter.  
  
"I just went on a date with you and I just don't believe it," I said, not believing I had just told him that either.  
  
"I'm not that great," he said, stepping forward again and grabbing one of my hands, weaving our fingers together.  
  
"You underestimate yourself."  
  
"Says Frank 'I don't think I'm attractive' Iero," Gerard said, stepping forward again so that there was only enough space between us for our hands.  
  
"That's because I'm really not."  
  
"You keep saying that, but I just don't see it."  
  
"Maybe you need to get your eyes tested then."  
  
"I think we're close enough that I can see you properly no matter how shitty my eyes are."  
  
I moved our hands to the side, so that I could pull him closer, pressing our bodies against one another, "I think we can get closer," I said, then reached round behind his neck and pulled him down into a deep kiss. We stood like that for a few moments, just pressed against each other, until something clicked between us and our actions became more urgent as we moved with each other. Gerard didn't seem to be able to keep his hands in one place; one second they'd be knotted in my hair, the next wrapped behind my neck, and the next resting on my hips. The counter was starting to dig uncomfortably into my back because of the way Gerard was pressed into me, but I wasn't about to tell him to move, so I ignored it and instead focused on enjoying the kiss. It was messy and desperate, our teeth kept getting in the way and my nose was squashed against Gerard's face in an attempt to deepen it further, but at the same time it was probably one of the best kisses I'd ever had.  
  
Just as I thought Gerard's hands had been staying suspiciously still, still resting on my hips, they started drifting upwards, pushing my shirt out of the way so that his fingers could trail lightly over my sides. I let out a small gasp, and could feel Gerard smile against my mouth before his moved down, choosing to kiss along my neck instead. I tilted my head back, granting Gerard better access, and I could feel him leaving marks along my throat, and I accidentally let a small whimper escape me, entangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him back up to kiss me, our mouths moving clumsily against each other. I could feel Gerard shift his knee so it was between my thighs, and he pushed up, making me gasp, which soon trailed off into a breathless moan when he still kept his fucking knee there, pressing into me.  
  
"Mmm," Gerard said, against my mouth, "come on," he said, pulling away and dragging me by the hand out of the kitchen.

"What about the coffee?" I asked, not really sure _why_ I was protesting, especially now that my jeans were much tighter than before.

"Fuck the coffee," Gerard said, pulling me through a door into his bedroom, where he collapsed backwards on his bed, pulling me down with him and continuing the kiss. His hands moved back down, pushing my shirt up again and trying to unbutton it without breaking the kiss, which somehow ended up with both of us getting tangled up in a shirt that really shouldn't be that hard to take off.  
  
I laughed, sitting back so I could take it off without getting us into any further mess, and throwing it across the room with my tie.  
  
"Fuck, Frank," Gerard said, barely a whisper, his fingers trailing along the ink on my bare chest, "you're like a fucking masterpiece," he added, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks as he started tracing the outlines of the birds on my hips before pulling me back down again to meet his mouth.  
  
"Nu-uh," I said, against his lips, "your turn now."  
  
Gerard sighed, and I shifted back a bit so he could sit up to pull of his tie and get his shirt unbuttoned - his waistcoat had been abandoned sometime during the movie - and out from underneath him, which he couldn't even manage because I had to help him when it got stuck behind his back.  
  
"You're so fucking pale," I said, once the shirt was gone, leaning down to kiss along his collarbones, "now who's the ghost?" I asked, bringing my hands up and running them along his chest, grazing over his nipples lightly, smirking when I heard his breath hitch in his throat.  
  
"Shut up and kiss me," he said breathily, tilting my head back up with his finger and leaning in to the kiss, somehow even more desperate than it had been before. We kissed like that for a while, wet and clumsy and just moving against each other desperately, until Gerard's hips jerked up instinctively, and I let out a long moan into his mouth at the feel of it.  
  
"You need to fucking take these off," I said, pulling away to take a deep breath and move my hands down to fumble at his belt.  
  
"Mmhm," Gerard said, kissing me quickly again before moving further down, his hands trailing over my chest and his mouth moving against my neck, which wasn't helping me undo the fucking contraption that is Gerard's belt, especially when his hands moved further, eliciting a small gasp from my throat as he cupped me through my jeans, making me harder than I already was.  
  
"Fucking hell," I muttered, finally pulling Gerard's belt open and trying not to buck into his hand, which had started to move slowly, keeping a steady rhythm with his kisses on my neck. I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, trying to pull them down his thighs without breaking contact with him, which was hard, especially considering how fucking tight his jeans were, even without the obvious bulge in them.  
  
I eventually shifted backwards reluctantly, managing not to laugh at Gerard's pout from the loss of contact as I pulled his jeans down and past his ankles, trying and failing to ignore the tent in Gerard's boxers.  
  
Once I was back in reach, Gerard instantly yanked my hips forward, reaching for the button holding my jeans together and causing nowhere near enough friction as his knuckles brushed over my crotch.  
  
"You suck at this," I said, swatting his hand away and undoing my jeans by myself when he couldn't manage it, pulling them off quickly and throwing them down to the floor.  
  
"Whatever," Gerard said, pulling me back down to kiss him.  
  
"Just so you know," I said, pulling away ever so slightly, "I don't normally do this," I told him, brushing strands of hair out of my face, "like, hook up with guys on the first date."  
  
"Me neither," Gerard said, his hands wandering down again and playing with the waistband of my boxers, "but I don't think it counts, this isn't exactly a normal case, is it?"  
  
"I guess not, that's good enough for me," I said, leaning down to kiss him again, but then his fingers were tucking into my boxers, pulling them halfway down my legs, so that I could kick them off behind me, before pulling Gerard's off too.  
  
"Do you have any-" I started, but Gerard had already nodded and rolled out from underneath me before I got a chance to finish, returning a second later and handing me a tube of lube and a condom.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" I asked, because as sure as Gerard had seemed, I had to check.  
  
"Definitely, just fucking do it already," Gerard said, biting his lip slightly as I shifted down the bed, giving myself access to him.  
  
I poured some of the lube onto my hand, lining up a finger with his entrance before pushing in slowly, freezing when Gerard gasped.  
  
"It's fine, it's fine, come on," he said, giving me a look and I kept pushing until it was as far in as it could go, and I stayed there for a moment, before adding a second finger alongside the first. I curled my fingers slightly, deliberately pressing against Gerard's prostate and smirking when I heard him whimper below me, bucking up towards my fingers. I took this as a cue to add a third finger, moving them around inside him until he started moaning beneath me, and I tried not to laugh at the absurdity of this situation, because my fucking fingers were up  _Gerard's_ fucking ass, when not even twenty four hours ago all I had was a huge crush on him, and not even a month ago I hadn't even kissed him or had any idea he felt the same about me.  
  
"Come _on_ , Frank, I'm ready," he said, shifting and trying to push down on my fingers.  
  
"Okay, okay," I said, pulling my fingers out slowly, wiping them on the mattress and grabbing the condom, tearing it out of the packet before rolling it on and applying more lube to my erection. "Ready?" I asked, taking in how nervous, but also how desperate, he looked, waiting not-so-patiently.

"Fuck yeah," he said, and that was all I needed before I aligned myself at his entrance, pushing in slowly and trying to contain a moan, knowing Gerard would be uncomfortable.  
  
Once I had pushed in fully, I moved myself back up slightly, kissing Gerard, gentle and reassuring, keeping myself buried inside him and waiting to move.  
  
"Fuck, Frank, _move_ ," Gerard said against my mouth.

"So pushy," I teased, but he didn't have to tell me twice before I was pulling backwards and thrusting into him again, keeping a slow, steady pace and watching Gerard's face for any kind of discomfort.  
  
We both let out a joint moan when I brushed against Gerard's prostate, and I quickened the pace, still watching Gerard's face carefully because despite the fucking filthy noises that were coming out of his mouth, I was still insanely worried about hurting him.

"Fuck," I murmured, into Gerard's hair, because this was pretty fucking amazing. Having your dick in someone's ass feels pretty good normally, but this was  _Gerard_. I had to have a few moments of 'holy shit this is actually happening', because I honestly couldn't really believe it. This was  _Gerard_. This morning I was praying that if my plan worked then I might be able to get him to consider the idea of us again, but hopefully with a better verdict. This, though, this was better than I could've thought. Not only the sex, because the sex was pretty damn good, but just the feeling of being so  _close_ to Gerard, and have him be completely open and vulnerable to me, willingly letting the guard down that he'd been keeping up way too often since what had happened. What was even better was that everything - every noise, every moan and gasp - all of that was because of  _me_ and it was me that got the chance to be able to be with Gerard like this, and to make him make those fucking  _noises_.

Gerard started thrusting his hips up to meet mine, bringing me back out of my head. "Fuck," he moaned, when I leaned down towards him further, giving him some deliberate friction between our stomachs with every thrust.

I didn't know how long I could last like this, with Gerard making noises of varied pitch with practically every thrust, his hands stills roaming around, one second grabbing onto my hips hard enough to bruise, the next knotted into my hair to hold my mouth to his. "I'm gonna-" he started, his hands shifting and grabbing almost painfully at my back, before he came over our stomachs, letting out an obscene noise as he clenched down around me, sending me over the edge, my vision going white at the edges as I collapsed on top of him.

"Fuck," I said, our breathing ragged and uneven but somehow in sync.

Gerard let out a small squeak, "You're small but you're still crushing me."

"Sorry," I said, giving him a sheepish smile and climbing off him, rolling to the side, pulling off the condom and tying it, before throwing it in the bin that was sitting against the wall.

"That..." Gerard started, breathing deeply, "wasn't how I expected the day to go this morning."

"Definitely not."

"But infinitely better than anything I could've thought up."

"Really?"

"Really."

We lay there in silence for another few minutes, our breathing gradually slowing down, "Is there anywhere I can-?" I started.

"Bathroom's just across the hall," Gerard told me, and I got off of the bed, picking up my clothes on the way out. I already knew where the bathroom was, but that was just from one particular event that I didn't really want to be brought up again, especially in this post-orgasm bliss.

"Frank?" Gerard asked, as I was halfway out the door.

"Yeah?" I said, turning to look at him.

"You're staying the night, you don't have a choice."

I laughed, "I wouldn't have chosen otherwise anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was longer than normal but hopefully worth it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say "shut up" a lot.

"You're making the coffee," Gerard said, the next morning, barely understandable through the pillow his face was pressed into.

"Why do I have to? It's your apartment."

"I made coffee last night."

"Yeah, but we didn't actually drink the coffee. I don't even know how to use your machine."

"It's not hard, I'm sure you can figure it out. I'll teach you," Gerard said, getting up and looking down at me from the side of the bed, where I was bundled up in pretty much the entire duvet.

"Your bed is warm I don't wanna leave it," I told him, because there was no way I could survive the temperature outside the sanctuary of Gerard's bed.

Gerard rolled his eyes, "You're lucky I like you, if you were Mikey I would've dragged you out of bed to the kitchen already."

"I bet you're not strong enough," I said, giving him a stupidly big smile from my blanket cocoon.

"Shut up," he said, failing to hide his smile as he walked out of the room, and I heard the coffee machine starting a few moments later. I heard muffled voices over the whirring of the machine, so I presumed Mikey was back already and attempted to shift myself into a sitting position so that I could actually drink my coffee, without exposing myself to the cold.

"So, uh," Gerard said, coming back into the room after a few minutes, holding two mugs and looking almost as red as his hair, "Mikey got home last night."

"Yeah?" I asked, feeling slightly confused as I took my coffee, lifting the duvet up for Gerard to sit next to me under it.

"He, uh, we weren't exactly quiet- and, uh, he's not so happy about that," he explained, shuffling close to me.

"Wha-" I started, still confused until what Gerard was trying to say dawned on me, "oh."

"Yeah."

"I don't blame him for being grumpy, hearing your brothers ridiculously loud sex noises probably isn't fun."

Gerard opened his mouth as if he was about to protest, but then closed it again, glaring at me instead, "Shut up."

I rolled my eyes, "He should be happy now, anyway; he was the one that was desperate to get us together."

"That was probably to stop me complaining all the time."

I raised one eyebrow at him, "What were you complaining about?"

"Your face," Gerard said, with all seriousness.

I laughed, "It's that bad, is it?"

"Definitely, I mean, you can tell just from the eyebrows."

"What's wrong with my eyebrows?"

"They're fucking perfect! Look at them, just like how do you have such amazing eyebrows?"

"I think they're too girly."

"Shut up, they suit your face perfectly."

"Are you saying I have a girly face?"

"I'm saying you have an awesome face."

"We've been over this and it's really not awesome."

"Are you joking? Honestly? Look at your jawline," he said, running a finger along it and making me shiver, "and your lips are freaking amazing too, and then you had to go and get it _pierced_ as if you weren't hot enough already."

"You're delusional," I said, but smiled anyway, because knowing someone thinks you're hot is a pretty good feeling, especially if it's the someone you slept with the previous night and have had a crush on for what feels like eternity.

"Shut up, you're just blind. Don't even get me started on your eyes, either, like, fucking hell. One second they're like this pale hazel that's just fucking mesmerising and the next they're this fucking amazing green or some kind of mix between the two that just fucks me up because that shouldn't be allowed."

"You seem pretty passionate about my eyes," I said, mostly because I had no fucking clue what else to say when compliments were pretty much being thrown at me in rapid succession.

"You're just fucking gorgeous, okay? I will not let you think otherwise."

"You're not so bad yourself," I said, letting my head drop to rest on Gerard's shoulder, relishing the warmth of it.

"No big explanation?" Gerard asked sarcastically.

"You're such a compliment whore," I said, feeling his shoulder move as he laughed, "there's no way I can fucking describe you, honestly, like, the first time we met, I was pissed off, because I couldn't sleep thanks to fucking Fall Out Boy practicing in your apartment. But then I saw you and there was no fucking way I could be angry because I was way too focused on your amazing face."

"Shut up, that so didn't happen."

"It did and I have no way to prove it but it happened and everything just evolved from there."

"You've liked me for a long time," Gerard said, quieter than before, almost to himself.

"Dude, I tried to kiss you like hardly any time after we met," I said, cringing at the memory and already regretting bring it up.

"I thought it was like- 'okay, this guy's cute-'"

"Modest," I commented, after which he promptly told me to shut up.

"'-I wonder if he's, like, single or whatever', but then I wasn't and you just moved on but were embarrassed cause it happened in the first place, that's why you didn't want to talk at first."

"I told you I had been trying to get over you."

"I didn't- I don't know, I didn't think," Gerard said, and I could feel him shaking his head from his hair brushing against mine. "You liked me all this time?"

"Since we met, practically."

"I'm so stupid, I shouldn't have- I don't know, like, I  _slept in your bed_ , how did you-?"

"God, dude," I said, burying my face in his shoulder, "I have no idea."

"I feel like an idiot."

"You had a girlfriend, that kinda makes you oblivious to people crushing on you normally. But, then again, I did think me trying to fucking  _kiss you_ would give you a hint."

"Shut up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have gotten some of my own frustrations about Frank's face in this, and it's pretty short cause I've been too distracted by a new fic I'm starting to make it any longer.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard gets a job, Frank gets invited to a wedding, and Mikey threatens him.

"Guess what?" Mikey asked me a few days after mine and Gerard's date, over the phone.

"What?"

"Gerard got a job," he told me.

"Really? What is it?" I asked, before hearing some muffled noises and Mikey saying "shut up" slightly further away from the phone.

"Sorry," Mikey said, closer to the phone again.

"Is he right there?"

"Yeah, he's being an idiot," he said, then I heard scuffling and Mikey yelping in pain and telling Gerard to fuck off, "he's being difficult about calling you again so soon after your date."

"Seriously?" I asked, rolling my eyes, "We talked literally everyday and now he decides to start being reserved."

"I told you he'd think you were being an idiot too," I heard Mikey say, further away again.

There were more noises and rustling and then I heard Gerard talking down the phone, "Hey, sorry."

"You're an idiot," I told him.

"Sorry," he said, and I knew he'd be blushing because he does it all the time, and then there's the fact that I could hear Mikey saying "You're face is the fucking colour of your hair, dude."

"So what's your job?"

"Oh, it's just this stupid assistant thing at a publishing company, but there's the possibility of a promotion, and my boss knows I've been writing some comics and stuff, so he said he might consider reading some of them."

"Dude, that's awesome!"

"Yeah...it's fucking- just...unbelievable," he said, and I knew he was smiling and barely containing his excitement.

"If he reads them I bet he'll love them and then you'll be a fucking _published_ comic book author."

" _You_ haven't even read them yet."

"Okay, yeah, that needs to change, but I've seen the few pieces of art you leave lying around your apartment, and I bet you're an amazing writer too."

"Again," I heard Mikey yell from a distance, "control your fucking blood flow, dude."

"Go fuck yourself," Gerard said, "not you," he quickly reassured me.

"Fucking hell, just ask him already," I only just heard Mikey say.

"Okay, just wait two seconds!" Gerard said, slightly further away from the phone.

"Ask me what?" I asked, getting curious.

"Uh, well..." Gerard started, but didn't get a chance to finish and I heard more rustling, which I could only presume was Mikey taking the phone back.

"Gerard wants to ask you on another date," he said bluntly, and I could hear Gerard swearing at him and trying to get the phone back.

"Um, okay?" I said, not sure why Mikey was being persistent about Gerard asking me out again; last time we had gone out it hadn't really ended well for him.

"Well, actually he wants you to _be_ his date," Mikey corrected himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Actually," he corrected again, "he's been ordered to bring you as his date."

"I would've asked him anyway," I heard Gerard tell him.

"Uh, care to explain?" I asked.

"There's a wedding."

"Who's wedding?"

"Remember Tyler?" Mikey asked, "Well, it's his, and he's invited Gerard and ordered him to bring you as his date."

"That sounds slightly disconcerting. When is it?"

"Not for a while still, sometime after Christmas, though," he said, and I had actually completely forgotten about Christmas until he said it, reminding me how close it actually was.

"Everything's after Christmas at the moment."

Mikey sighed, "Whatever, I can tell you when it is when I actually remember, but right now just say whether or not you'll go because Gerard's looking at me way too hopefully," Mikey said, followed by some distant swearing.

"I feel like Tyler will murder me in my sleep if I say no."

"He's not capable of murder, though if he was, he definitely would; he thinks you guys are perfect for each other and is determined to make sure you get married."

I laughed, though I couldn't really complain about Tyler's plans; I definitely wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with Gerard. "I'll come," I told him.

"Good, and this better not just be because of the empty threats I've made on Tyler's part, because I'd like to remind you that I  _am_ capable of murder and you are in fact the one dating my brother and my best friend, so you've been warned."

I laughed, "Don't worry though, Mikey," I said, more seriously, "I wouldn't dream of hurting him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this has gotten 2000 hits this is so awesome so thank you everyone who's read this shitty fic. Sorry this took so long to update, and is ridiculously short, but I couldn't really include the next chapter with this one but hopefully I'll get that up by tomorrow or something. Also, you guys should check out my new fic because that's the reason I've been awful with updates lately.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *insert some generic Christmas song lyrics about it being Christmastime here*

"So I was wondering," Gerard said, a few weeks later, "are you doing anything just after Christmas?"

"Uh, I promised my mum I'd visit her on the actual day, but other than that I've got nothing."

"Me and Mikey are visiting our parents, and Pete's gonna come too, so I just thought...I don't know, do you wanna come?" he asked, slightly uncertainly, lifting his head up off of it's position on my shoulder to look at me.

"To meet your parents?" I asked, and he nodded, "That'd be awesome."

"I can't wait," he said, beaming, before letting his head rest back against me.

"Do I have to worry about any, uh...disapproving looks because of, like..." I said, trailing off and lifting my tattoo-covered arms to address my point.

"Dude, Mikey has tattoos."

"Mikey has like two tattoos."

"Okay, Pete has plenty of tattoos and they seem to like him, and I know he doesn't have as many as you but I'm pretty sure you'll be fine. Though, you might want to, like, cover this one up somehow," he said, picking up my hand and tracing the heart and his name on it with his thumb, "my mum probably won't approve. Mikey was with this girl a while ago, and they got matching tattoos, and before they got them done she told him hundreds of times not to do it and, well, it didn't end well."

"I can get some makeup or something and cover it, but she'll have to find out about it one day, I mean, it's kinda permanent."

"No fucking shit," he said, hitting my arm, "just seeing my name tattooed on you when she meets you for the first time probably isn't gonna give the best impression."

"Okay, fair enough."

"Ew, can you guys not be so cute?" I heard Joe saying, just after the front door opened and he stepped inside, followed by Andy, Patrick, Pete and Mikey.

"Well Gerard's naturally like that, so if anything I'm toning down his cuteness," I replied.

"Shut up, have you even seen your face? That is a complete fucking lie," Gerard said.

"See, this is what I'm talking about," Joe complained as he sat down.

"Oh my god please promise me you guys won't wear those when we go visit our parents," Gerard said suddenly, and I looked up to see Mikey wearing a black t-shirt with the words "Mikey fuckin Way" written across it, and Pete wearing a similar t-shirt but with the words "fuckin Mikey Way" on it instead, looking very pleased with himself.

"His idea, not mine," Mikey said, shrugging and sitting down on the sofa next to us.

"Like you weren't oh so eager to get these made," Pete rebutted, sitting next to him.

Mikey tried to keep a straight face but I could see him smirking slightly, "You were still the one that suggested it."

"I'll happily take credit cause it's an awesome idea."

"Whatever, but still no wearing it in front of mine and Mikey's  _parents_ ," Gerard said, giving Pete a look.

"Okay, okay," Pete said, raising his hands in defeat, "is Frank coming?"

I nodded, and Gerard made a noise of complaint, because any head movement on my part disturbed his position.

"I feel excluded, why weren't we invited to meet the Way parents?" Patrick asked, half sarcastically.

"Because you're not sleeping with either of their sons," Pete said.

"Well, if it's that easy..." Joe said.

 

 

 

Christmas seemed to pass quicker than normal; I spent most of the day lounging around my old house, watching crappy Christmas specials with my mum and catching her up on what had happened to me since we'd last seen each other. She had noticed my new tattoo, and wouldn't let me miss out any details about mine and Gerard's relationship, except I definitely skipped over  _some_ things. My dad came in for a little bit as well and stayed to eat Christmas dinner with us, but left before the two of them could start arguing.

"Are you sure you can't stay a bit longer?" my mum asked as I started preparing to leave again, after staying the night.

"Yeah, Gerard's taking me to meet his parents, so I've got to be back, cause it's a long drive and he wanted to leave today."

"See, why didn't you bring him here? Why do his parents get to meet you before I meet him?"

"Relax, mum, I'll bring him next time."

"You better, and I want to meet his parents at some point too, before the wedding."

"We're not even engaged and this is the fifth fucking time you've mentioned our wedding, we've only been dating a month or so."

"It's gonna happen, don't worry, I can see it just from the way you talk about him."

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help feeling somewhat happy about what she was saying; she wasn't often wrong about things like this, and even though it has only been a short time we've been dating, marrying Gerard is definitely something I wouldn't mind doing at some point in the future.

"Good luck with his parents," she said pulling me into a hug, "I'll see you in a bit, and Gerard too," she added, pulling away.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes again. We said some more goodbyes, and then I was out the door and in the car, on the short drive back home.

 

 

 

"Merry Christmas," Gerard said when I showed up back at his apartment, and pulled me into a hug and a quick kiss.

"Christmas was yesterday," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes, "Shut up. Are you ready to go?"

"Right now? I literally just got back."

"It's a long drive, so we're gonna be driving at night already even if we leave this very second."

"Five minutes?" I asked, giving him a pleading look.

"You can have enough time for me to give you your present," he told me, his face breaking into a smile, "it's upstairs."

"In my apartment? I don't even wanna know how you got in there while I wasn't home."

Gerard just laughed and took my hand, leading me up the stairs and to the front door of my apartment. "Okay, so, I know how much you love Les Pauls because that's pretty much all you use, but you're always complaining about how heavy they are to play on stage so I thought, what if you could get a guitar that's got, like, all the different aspects of a Les Paul, but with a lighter body so that you don't shrink until you reach like 4' or something. But, of course, there's nothing made like that, so I kinda made one," he said, opening the door to reveal a guitar propped up against the kitchen counter.

"Oh my god, this must've been so fucking expensive," I said, going over and picking the guitar up, smiling at how fucking  _light_ it was. Gerard was right; it had the pickups, neck, head, switches,  _everything_  the same as my favourite Les Paul, but a much lighter body, which would make performing so much fucking easier without changing the sound.

"Well, the pay's pretty good at my new job, and I had been saving some money for a while, I just didn't know what  _for_ , and then I had this idea and I knew exactly what I could spend it on," Gerard said, shrugging and looking down at his feet.

I put the guitar back down, and moved over to him with two big steps, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into another kiss. "You're amazing, I love it," I said, almost wanting to add 'I love  _you_ ' onto the end, but I knew it was probably too soon and I didn't know how Gerard would react or if he would reciprocate it. "Now it's your turn to open your present," I told him, stepping back and disappearing into my bedroom then returning with a small wrapped rectangle, handing it to him.

"So I talked to your boss," I said, as he started to unwrap it, "and Shaun, and Mikey helped a bit too and this is the first copy, but they said it'll be officially published within a month."

Gerard just stood there, staring at the now opened present, the comic sitting in his hands, the front page baring the title "The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys" in bold.

"Oh my god," he said, opening it up and flicking through the pages, "oh my god," he repeated and looked up at me, "thank you so much, this is the best present you could've ever gotten me, honestly," he said, placing it on the side and pulling me into a hug, almost crushing my chest with the force of it.

"Okay, can't breathe," I said, trying to pull away, and Gerard eventually let me, blushing and looking down again.

"Sorry," he said, giving me a stupid smile.

I rolled my eyes, "It's fine, come on, we've got a long drive ahead of us."

"Yeah," Gerard said, smiling as he took my hand and followed me back out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about using English spelling even when they're all American's talking; if I tried to use American spelling I'd just end up switching between the two and that'd be even worse.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decent amount of fluff and a little argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have put a reference to the new 21p song in here which I just had to do because it lined up with my plan for this chapter (if you haven't heard it, check it out, it's amazing and I've been listening to it on repeat all day)

"Gerard I know what you're thinking and there's no way we have time, you said we're already gonna be late," I said, after we'd been in the car for a little while, and were approaching a coffee shop.

"Pleease?" Gerard said, turning to me for a second and giving me a pleading look, "I won't stay awake if I don't have coffee."

"I can drive then," I said, shrugging.

"You already driven from your mum's house this morning."

"That was like a ten minute drive," I said, rolling my eyes at him, "thanks for letting me borrow your car, though."

"I  _did_ offer to drive you, but you wouldn't let me."

"And my mum hated me for it, she's annoyed because your parents get to meet me before she meets you; I bet she would've done something embarrasing like shown you pictures of me from high school or naked in the bath as a kid or something."

"That's even more reason for me to meet your mum now," he said, grinning at me sideways.

"No way, when you do meet, I'm not letting either of you near any photo albums."

"Trust me, my parents are gonna be exactly the fucking same. Besides, it's not like I haven't seen all of that anyway...multiple times."

"Fuck off," I said, hitting his arm, making him laugh as he pulled up outside the coffee shop, "I never agreed to coffee."

"I need coffee," he said, with a completely straight face.

I rolled my eyes, again, "Fine," I sighed, climbing out of the car and shivering almost instantly. Gerard was by my side just as fast, pulling me against him and warming me up.

"You don't need to practically run around the car to warm me up," I said, as much as I appreciated it.

"Shut up, you'd probably freeze to death if I didn't," he said, leading me inside, and I sighed at the warmth and comforting smell of coffee.

"Find some comfy seats, I'll order our drinks," Gerard said, starting to move away.

"I didn't tell you what-" I started.

"Dude, you order the same thing every fucking time we get coffee, it's not hard to guess," he interrupting, smiling and shaking his head at me before walking off and up to the counter.

I found two seats near the back of the store, where it was far enough away from the door that the constant opening and closing and rushes of cold air wouldn't affect me.

"I swear I want to live in a coffee store," Gerard said after a few minutes of me waiting, handing me my coffee and sitting opposite me.

"But then I'd have to actually go outside to be able to visit you," I said.

"Don't worry, you can live with me there," he said, smirking at me over his coffee, and I laughed it off, but couldn't help but feel an underlying nervousness; we'd been dating for hardly any time and of course I was fucking over thinking a comment Gerard probably had hardly thought about before he made it. I looked down, taking a sip of my coffee and trying to hide the fact that I was probably going red or pulling some weird face.

I looked up after a few minutes of silence, finding Gerard watching me with the tiniest smile on his face and a weird look behind his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, worrying that I'd somehow managed to get something on my face or something else stupid.

"Hmm, what? Oh, uh, nothing," he said, looking away and blushing, but still smiling to himself.

I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping he wasn't just not telling me whatever it was, but decided to let it go, taking another sip of coffee.

"Oh shit," I said suddenly, remembering, "I forgot to buy makeup to cover up my tattoo."

Gerard laughed at my horror-stricken face, "I have some in my bag, don't worry."

I raised one eyebrow at him, "Do I wanna know why you have makeup?"

Gerard laughed again, "I went through some weird stuff when I was in art school."

"Please tell me there's some photo evidence of that that your parents are gonna end up showing me later."

"No, thank god, there are literally no photos of me after I moved out of my parents' house, up until a little while ago, but that's mostly because I hang out with Pete, and he's, like, the selfie king, so it's impossibly to not have at least one photo of yourself when you're friends with him."

I laughed, because that was definitely true, but then frowned when I started thinking about Gerard's parents; I hadn't properly thought about the fact that I was going to meet them, and when I did I just got even more worried. Would they even like me? What if they somehow disapproved of me and aren't happy with the fact that me and Gerard are dating? I knew I was probably being stupid; parents with two queer kids, one of which has dyed their hair a ridiculously bright colour, the other with tattoos and a nose piercing, must be pretty accepting, but I still got worried, like the idiot I was.

"What's wrong?" Gerard said, looking genuinely worried about me.

"I'm just...worried about meeting your parents," I said, biting at the inside of my lip nervously.

"It'll be fine, don't worry, they'll love you."

"My brain isn't that reasonable, I'm still gonna worry."

Gerard broke into a smile, "You'll be great."

I rolled my eyes, "I doubt it."

 

 

 

Another few minutes later, we had finished our coffees and Gerard was attempting to convince me to go back outside.

"Come on, we need to go," he said, sitting on the edge of his seat and ready to stand up.

"But it's cold outside."

"It literally takes two seconds to get to the car."

"The car will take a while to heat up though," I said, "can't we just stay a bit longer?"

"It's only gonna get colder," Gerard told me, standing up, "come on," he said, taking his scarf off of the back of his chair and wrapping it around my neck instead of his own, "I'll protect you from the cold," he said, over-dramatically and sarcastically.

"Shut up," I said, slapping away the hand he'd extending to help me up and standing myself, trying to resist when he pulled me close, wrapping one arm around my waist, but giving up when he held on tight. Besides, being pressed against Gerard wasn't exactly my least favourite thing in the world.

"Oh, crap, it's been snowing," Gerard said when we approached the door, noticing the already fairly thick white layer covering the ground and the flakes still falling from the sky, "the traffic's gonna be shit."

"And it's gonna be  _freezing_ ," I said, shuffling closer into Gerard, which was hard considering how close we already were.

"You're such a wimp," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Shut up, I just get cold easily," I said, gasping from the cold when we stepped outside, and making Gerard laugh.

He started walking faster though, keeping me close to him and getting me to the car quickly. I climbed inside, waiting not-so-patiently for Gerard to hurry the fuck up and get inside and turn the engine on so it would get  _warmer_.

"I hate being cold," I complained, when Gerard was finally inside and blasting the heating on full.

"I know," he said, grinning at me and taking my hands between his, rubbing them slowly to warm them up.

"I love how warm your fucking hands are but you need to drive; we're already gonna be late from the traffic."

"You sure you're warm enough?" 

I rolled my eyes, "I'll be fine in a minute, just drive."

 

 

 

I must've fallen asleep, because I woke later to a thud and the car shaking around me, and opened my eyes, adjusting to the now dark car.

"Shit, sorry, I'd been trying to avoid those so I wouldn't wake you up," Gerard said when he saw me, "fucking potholes," he muttered under his breath.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked, noticing the blanket covering me that hadn't been there before, and smiled, wrapping it further around myself.

"Uh, a while," Gerard said, "we were stuck in traffic for ages, we've still got a while to go."

"We should stop at a motel or something, you can't keep driving all night."

"I'll be fine," he said, shrugging, "there's no point stopping n- oh shit," he said, staring down at the dashboard in panic.

"What?"

"I forgot to check the gas, shit."

"Is there a station nearby?"

"I don't think it'll make it anywhere near far enough," Gerard said, and sure enough, the car started to slow until it was no longer moving.

"You're such an idiot," I said, trying to stop myself from laughing at him.

Gerard turned to look at me, looking genuinely distressed, "What do we do now?"

"We can just walk to the nearest motel and then come back in the morning after finding some gas somewhere."

"No way, we're not walking, it's too far."

"Come on, it can't be that bad."

"Frank, you'll  _freeze_."

"I'll be fine."

"No you won't, and we both know it. I'm not letting you out of this car, I don't want you to get sick. We can sleep in the back of the car or something."

"Gerard, seriously, sleeping in the back of the car isn't gonna work, I said I'll be fine," I said, trying the door handle but finding that he'd locked it, "just let me out the car and we can walk, for fucks sake."

"No fucking way."

" _Gerard_ , seriously? What the fuck else do you suggest? You're the one that forgot to fill up the fucking car." _  
_

"I don't know, I'm sorry, okay? But there's no way you can manage walking that far."

"I'll be  _fine_ , I'm not a kid."

"Frank, you know that's what I meant, it's just- you get so cold and-"

"Fine, we can fucking sleep in the car," I interrupted, annoyed because I didn't always need someone parenting me and worrying about me getting sick; I had that way too much as a kid already. I turned away from Gerard, climbing into the backseat, deliberately leaving behind the blanket and his scarf, and settled down, trying to make myself comfortable leaning against one of the doors.

I could feel Gerard watching me, even though I wasn't looking at him, and heard him sigh, seeing him turn his head out of the corner of my eye to look down at the blanket and scarf. I turned further so I couldn't see him, closing my eyes and resting my head against the window, trying not to flinch at the cold.

After a few moments, I heard some rustling and other various noises, and then Gerard's heat was against me, and the blanket being wrapped around me, the now folded up scarf being slid under my head as a make-shift cushion.

"I'm sorry, Frank," Gerard said, leaning his head on my shoulder, his voice right in my ear. "Sorry if I was being too...pushy or worrying to much or whatever, I just didn't want you to get sick or anything. Sorry," he said again, and I could feel him lean back slightly when I didn't reply, as if contemplating whether or not to stay next to me. "Nevermind," he said after a while, "I'll sleep in the front," he added, moving away further, leaving the blanket on me.

"Wait," I said, opening my eyes and turning to see him freeze halfway through climbing back into the front, "stay," I said, reaching one arm out from under the blanket, and taking his hand, pulling him back slowly. He willingly followed, settling back down next to me, wrapping an arm behind my back and around my waist, and resting his chin on my shoulder, his face close to mine.

"Sorry," I said quietly, "I was overreacting," I added, resisting the temptation to turn and kiss him, because that would just end up going too far, and, although it would admittedly produce plenty of heat, Gerard, at least, needed sleep right now if he was gonna continue driving tomorrow. I closed my eyes when he didn't reply, preparing myself to sleep again.

"I love you, Frank," he whispered quietly after I had almost actually fallen asleep, and my eyes shot open, not believing what I had heard. I sat in silence, stunned, and could feel him shifting next to me uncertainly after several minutes of my silence.

"I love you too," I finally said, a smile brought to my lips, and I heard Gerard relax next to me, and he kissed me on the cheek softly, squeezing me slightly with the arm he still had wrapped around me.

"Night, Frankie," he said into my hair, and I could hear his smile.

"Night, Gee."


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard gets cold and finds a way to warm himself up using Frank.

I woke up to light shining in through the frosted windows, noticing straight away Gerard's absence from the lack of heat pressed against my side. I sat up, trying not to disturb the blanket and expose myself to the cold, and saw a note resting on the seat, Gerard's messy handwriting reading, "Gone for gas. Try to stay warm without me," followed by some even messier x's and a 'G'. Sitting next to the note was a pair of his gloves and a big, fluffy hat, ear-flaps and everything, that I decided I definitely needed to see Gerard in. But since he wasn't there right then, I put it on myself, pulling along the gloves with it, because I was freezing as fuck; Gerard must've turned the car off at some point so we didn't kill the battery, and now the only thing keeping the car slightly warmer than outside was the thin walls. 

I had settled back under the blanket, trying to stay warm, when the side door was pulled open suddenly, almost making me jump out of my skin. 

Gerard grinned at me, his breath coming out as steam, "You saw the hat and gloves."

"Oh, yeah, thanks," I said, as he climbed in beside me, shutting the door quickly.

"I'll fill the car up in a minute, I just need to warm up a second," he told me.

"Wait," I said, noticing the snow in his hair and his shivering hands, "you didn't have any other gloves or anything?"

Gerard shrugged, "You need them more."

"Dude, I've been in the car, I only just woke up and found them, you're freezing!" I said, putting my now bare hand on his.

"It's fine, seriously."

"No way, you're lips are practically blue."

"Mmm," he said, looking away for a second, "I know a great way to warm them up," he added, looking over at me with a grin plastered across his face.

I shook my head, laughing, "You're such a nerd," I told him, but shuffled closer anyway, leaning against his side and trying not to flinch from how much colder he was than normal. I pulled the hat off of my head, hoping it wouldn't result in some new messy and so not attractive hairstyle, and pulled it over his instead. And, of course, he looked cuter than ever with his red hair poking out from underneath, his tiny smile lighting up his face.

"Take off your jacket," I said, tugging at the sleeve of it, "you'll warm up quicker next to me then."

"Frank, you're so forward," Gerard said sarcastically, sitting forward and pulling it off before leaning back next to me.

"Oh fuck off," I said, trying to get as much of me as close to as much of him as possible; it  _was_ for the sake of warming him up, but that didn't mean I couldn't make sure I enjoyed it too. "Better?" I asked.

"Well," he said, turning to face me, "my lips are still cold."

I sighed, rolling my eyes, "You know," I said, shifting closer, if that was possible, and facing him, so our faces were barely inches away, "you could just say 'Frank, I want to kiss you', it's a lot easier."

"Okay," Gerard said, leaning ever so slightly closer, so his breath brushed my lips when he spoke, "Frank, I want to kiss you."

And then I was kissing him, despite the cold of his lips, because you try and not kiss one of the most attractive guys I knew when he was an inch away from you and telling you he wanted to kiss you.

"Mmm," Gerard said into my mouth, twisting round and bringing his arms up around me, "definitely better."

"Does that mean you want me to stop?" I asked, pulling away slightly and raising one eyebrow at him.

"Nuh-uh," he said, shaking his head far too much, "definitely not," he finished, pulling me back in, pressing his body against mine like it's the only source of heat in the middle of a blizzard, which it pretty much is.

I slide my hands around his back, trailing them up to his hair to pull in the way I know definitely turns him on, but get reminded of the hat when my fingers touch the thick material instead of his hair.

"Stupid hat," I said, pulling away to get it off of Gerard's head, prompting him to bend slightly and kiss along my collarbone, sucking on the sensitive skin there. I let out a gasp at the feeling, which I tried to stop from turning into a moan when Gerard pulled me even closer to him, "I can't have a fucking hickey when I meet your parents," I protested.

"They won't notice," Gerard lied, moving his lips back up to meet mine once I'd freed his hair from the confines of his hat, tangling my fingers in it.

"Liar," I tried to say, instead coming out as a half mumbled moan, thanks to Gerard's tongue moving round with mine, not really giving me the ability to talk. Gerard's hands moved down to my hips, resting on them steadily before he start moving them up again, taking my shirt with them. I normally wouldn't complain, but the second his cold hands touched the skin of my hips, it sent a shiver through me, and I let out an embarrassing squeak, making Gerard pull away to laugh, keeping his forehead pressed against mine.

"You're so fucking cold," I said, trying not to flinch when Gerard put his hands back on my bare hips, the cold seeping through my skin.

"Is it okay?" he asked, frowning suddenly, lifting his hands off slightly.

I rolled my eyes again, "It's fucking fine, stop worrying," I said, pulling him towards me again with my hands knotted in his hair, almost falling backwards from the force he met me with, but Gerard went with it; leaning me back until I was lying against the seat, his body close on top of me, only held up by one arm.

"Hi," he said, his mouth inches from mine.

"We're in a car," I reminded him, trying to ignore the weight of his hips against mine, and the pressure on my crotch felt _way_ too good right then.

"Yeah, Frank, I'm aware of that."

"You seem warm enough n-" I started, but was cut off by Gerard's lips, his tongue easing my mouth open again.

"I think-" he said, between kisses, trailing back down to my jaw and neck, "I'm still - a bit - cold."

"You know how you get warmer?" I said, gasping when Gerard hummed against my neck, sending the vibrations through me, "Turning the fucking car on," I finished.

"Mmm, I have a better way," he said.

"Oh yeah?" I asked breathlessly, "What's that then?"

"I think you know," he said, lifting his head up to smirk at me before leaning down again to kiss me, grinding his hips down into mine, making me gasp into his mouth.

"Fuck, Gee," I muttered, pushing back up against him, satisfied at the moan that escaped his throat.

I had a brief flash of 'how the fuck is this my life', because I still really couldn't comprehend that it was. Just a couple of months ago, I had the biggest crush on this guy, and thought about it practically every night, hating myself over the fact that for once I'd managed to fall for a guy that  _wasn't_ available. But then, here I was, making out with him like nothing else mattered - which it really didn't, because Gerard is an outstanding kisser - in the back of a car, just before I met his parents. And he had said he  _loved_ me last night, which I was still finding hard to believe. Gerard was _Gerard_ , with his stupidly bright red hair, and amazing voice and complete obliviousness of how much he sings until you point it out, and his habit of dancing a little bit too much like a stripper when he thinks no ones looking, or when everyone's looking, regardless. Whereas I was just Frank; a bit boring and not particularly outstanding in the looks department, despite how often Gerard's started to tell me otherwise. _  
_

Except, right then Gerard had chosen me to make out with, so I wasn't exactly going to throw that opportunity away, especially when the guy was grinding into me like it was the end of the world, which was hard to ignore.

"Fuck," I muttered, my hips bucking up into Gerard, "doing this in a car isn't a good idea," I said, unwillingly pushing Gerard away by his shoulders, so I could look at him, "we're supposed to be at your  _parents_ house, and I don't have any other jeans."

"Take them off then," he said, trailing his fingers down to hook in my belt loops, tugging ever so slightly.

"No fucking way, then I  _will_ freeze."

"We-" he started.

"No, we're not booking a hotel just to have sex, neither of us can afford that," I interrupted.

Gerard pouted at me, but sat back, pulling me up with him, still half-straddling me, "We'll be at my parents house we won't be able to have sex for  _days_."

I rolled my eyes, "You'll survive, now go fill up the car and try get rid of your boner, you horny fucker."

"Like you're not hard too."

"I-" I started, trailing off into a gasp when Gerard thrusted back down, grinding onto me and giving me a mischievous smirk before climbing off and getting back out the car. 

I rolled my eyes, even though he wasn't there to see it, and climbed back between the seats and into the passenger seat again, trying and failing to ignore how fucking  _tight_ my jeans were now.

Gerard reappears a few minutes later, shaking the new snow out of his hair before starting the car up, blasting the heating out on full. 

"Are Pete and Mikey there already?" I asked.

"Yeah, they spent Christmas there."

"Why didn't you? You should've gone too."

"I didn't want you to have to drive down here on your own, and plus, a long car ride with your brother and his boyfriend, even if he is one of your best friends, isn't that fun. At all."

I let out a laugh, slightly forced, feeling nervous again about meeting Gerard's parents.

"Frank, relax," he said, noticing my nerves, "you'll do great."

"I just really don't want to make a bad impression, especially now that I've got a fucking hickey-" I said, pulling down the sun visor and checking in the mirror on it, "-as high up on my fucking neck as you could possibly go, jesus, Gerard."

"Sorry," Gerard said, not looking sorry in the slightest, giving me a big smile.

I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, "Where's the makeup? There's no way my shirt can cover this up, and I still need to cover up my tattoo."

"In the back, front pocket of my bag," he told me, and I climbed out of my seat, kneeling on the space between our seats and reaching into the back to get the small pot out of his bag.

I climb back once I'd found it, looking over at Gerard, but finding him looking slightly behind me, well, staring. At my ass, to be specific.

"Were you staring at my ass while I was getting the makeup?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He finally actually looked up at me, heat rising to his cheeks, "It's hard not to. It's definitely a good sight."

Now I felt myself blushing, sitting back in my seat completely and unscrewing the lid of the makeup.

"Just shut up and drive."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frank meets Gerard's parents and some other stuff.

We arrived outside Gerard's parents' house in the evening, and we would've gotten their much earlier, except he managed to get distracted by just about everything, so we stopped way too many times, and spent most of the days in obscure comic stores and coffee shops. The snow had finally stopped, but it was still freezing, and so Gerard had insisted I wrap myself up in all his scarves and various other things.

"It'll be fine," he said, noticing my nervous expression as we both climbed out of the car, collecting our bags from the back seat.

"These are your parents, I can't help but be nervous," I explained, letting him lead me to the door. "I hope they have food in there. I'm starving," I added; since the day before we'd both been living off cheap coffee and vending machine snacks.

"They always have tons of food, me and Mikey were fat kids."

"Now I  _definitely_ need to see pictures of you as a kid."

Gerard groaned, knocking on the door, "No way, just no fucking way."

I opened my mouth to give some kind of retort, but the door was pulled open, interrupting me and revealing Mikey in glasses I'd never seen him wear, and a loose sweater that I'm sure I'd seen Pete wear before.

"Finally," Mikey sighed, stepping aside to leave room for us to come inside, "you're just in time for dinner."

"Thank god," I said, pulling off Gerard's hat and unwinding his scarves from around my neck.

"Are those Gerard's?" Mikey asked, frowning at the items in question.

"He gets cold easily," Gerard explained, taking them of me and hanging them up next to the door, along with my coat.

"And you won't stop worrying about me because of it."

Mikey just rolled his eyes, "Come on, you know I can't leave Pete alone with them for long," he said, directing the last part at Gerard, "god knows what he'd say."

Gerard laughed, walking behind Mikey through the house. I followed them down a hallway and through a door, until we were all in a small dining room, Pete sitting down at a table across from who must be Gerard and Mikey's parents.

They both stood up, turning to face me, looking me up and down with thankfully nonjudgmental looks, and I was glad I'd covered up my newest tattoo when their eyes ran over the rest of them.

"Uh, Frank, these are my parents, and, uh, this is Frank," Gerard said, looking between the three of us.

"Please, call me Donald," his dad said, stepping forward and shaking my hand. I just shook it, nodding stupidly because I was too nervous to form any kind of reply. "Have a seat," he added, and Gerard led me round to the other side of the table, sitting next to me and starting a conversation about something-or-other that I ended up not paying attention to for at least five minutes.

 

By the time we'd finished dinner and talked a bit more, I thought it had gone pretty well. His parents seemed to like me; we talked about music a lot and his dad seemed interested in a lot of my stuff. They had insisted we stay and talk more, but both Gerard and I were exhausted after the journeys and caffeine overdoses, so we ended up going straight to bed after we'd helped clear up a bit.

 

"Fuck, I'm freezing," I muttered once I'd gotten into Gerard's bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin, rolling my eyes at Gerard's laughter as he changed into his pajamas.

"You look like an idiot," he said, finally climbing into the bed next to me.

"Fuck you."

"Not in my parents' house," he said, looking at me with a mock-serious expression.

"Shut up, that's, like, the worst joke ever," I said, hitting his arm, giving him the opportunity to slide under the blanket next to me, pulling it round both of us and wrapping one arm around my waist.

"You  _are_ cold," Gerard said, his hand brushing my shirt up slightly, his palm pressing on my hip, the heat spreading through me.

"Get off, I hate you, the heating in this house is shit," I said, trying to bat away his hand, but he just pulled me closer, bringing me back towards him so my back was pressed against his chest, wrapping his other arm underneath me.

"'m warming you up," he mumbled, resting his chin against my shoulder, his head resting against mine lightly.

"You suck at it," I said, despite the heat now radiating through me, only thanks to Gerard.

"Mmhm," he said into my neck, and I could already feel his body getting heavier with sleep around me.

 

Gerard fell asleep quickly, ending up lying back on his side of the bed, the only reminder of him left being the arm he still had half-trapped underneath me. I sighed, knowing I wouldn't be able to sleep in the cold, and not wanting to wake up Gerard. So I got up slowly, trying not to crush his arm any further, walking slowly across to the door and trying not to make too much noise.

I made my way down the stairs slowly, finding the kitchen in the dark and glancing around, hoping I'd spot anywhere I could find tea or hot chocolate or anything  _warm_. 

"What're you looking for?" I heard Mikey say from the doorway, making me jump and almost slam the cupboard door that I'd just opened.

"How to come off like a total creep, by Mikey Way," I said sarcastically, glad he wouldn't be able to see in the dark how red I'd probably gone from being caught looking through his parents' kitchen.

He shrugged, pulling out a chair at the small table there, "Can't sleep," he said.

"Does Pete snore?" I asked, grinning in the darkness, "I bet he does."

"Shut up. I know for a fact that Gerard does."

I just rolled my eyes, because I couldn't deny anything, "It's too cold to sleep," I explained.

"And food helps with that?"

"Hot chocolate."

"Top cupboard on the left," he said, and I grabbed the packet out, pouring some into two mugs with a nod from Mikey, filling them up once I'd boiled enough water.

I handed one to Mikey, sitting down opposite him. We both sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping at our drinks and not knowing what to say, until he finally spoke up. "How's Gerard?" he asked.

"What?"

"Is he- I dunno, how is he?" he repeated.

"You're his brother. And, like, his best friend," I said, as if it was some kind of answer.

"He hasn't been talking to me much lately."

"You  _live_ together. You're always talking," I said, feeling like I was missing something.

"He-" Mikey said, pausing to think for a moment, "normally we talk about everything, when he was really bad he'd always tell me about all the shit he was feeling and everything, but he hasn't said much lately and- I don't know, I'd like to think it's because he's getting better but- I just- I dunno, I want to check."

I thought for a moment, processing what Mikey had said and realising for the first time how little me and Gerard had talked about what had happened, if we had  _at all_. I'd just presumed he wouldn't want to talk about it; it was a sensitive topic. I guess I had just hoped in my head that he was okay; I didn't have much experience with anything like this, and I had no idea what recovery would be like or how long it would take, so I just stayed blissfully ignorant, just enjoying  _being with_ Gerard, after months of daydreaming about it. But once Mikey had said this, I just started to worry. He could've been okay, and Mikey was just worrying for no reason, but that didn't stop me from doing the same.

"We-" I started, "we've never talked about it," I said quietly. "God," I started again, moments later, "I feel like I've been such a shitty friend or boyfriend or whatever. He could be- I don't know. I should've talked to him or asked him if he's doing okay now and I just-" I said, working myself up over probably nothing.

"Frank, Gerard's probably just too busy fucking falling in love with you to have conversations with his brother about how he's feeling," Mikey said, still not sounding very convincing, "I just worry too much about him, I'll see if I can talk to his therapist when I can, he'll probably be fine."

"You can't-" I said, trying to express my objections somehow because talking to Gerard's therapist just seemed like a horribly breach of his privacy and I didn't want to make him feel like he had no one to talk to, "you can't just talk-"

"She's not going to tell me anything, even if I tried, I just want to ask her if he's been actually talking to her and telling her things, don't worry."

I just nodded, finishing off the last of my hot chocolate.

"I should go back upstairs and sleep," Mikey said after a couple of minutes, taking both of our empty mugs and putting them in the sink before leaving the room.

I sat for a few more minutes in silence, before I finally got up, walking back upstairs to join Gerard in bed and hopefully get some sleep, which didn't seem likely with these new worries on my mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me like ten years to update so sorry about that but I've been super busy with exams and studying and coursework etc and still will be for the next month or so. This is also really short because I've just been stuck with serious writer's block as well as being busy so sorry again


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (kind of) New Years Eve party.

The weekend passed quicker than I expected, and soon enough the four of us were piling into Gerard's car for the drive back - Pete and Mikey both said they couldn't be bothered to drive, so Pete said he'd get someone he knew to bring his car back if they were passing through.

"We really should've flown here," I said, several hours in, after far too long of hearing Mikey and Pete constantly talking behind me, varying between weird discussions, whispers that I was kind of glad I couldn't make out, and games of I-spy and various other weird and annoying things.

Gerard just nodded, "I feel like parents. Are kids really this annoying?" he asked, then there was a thud and Gerard's chair shook, and judging by the smug look on Pete's face, he had kicked it.

"Are we gonna stop at a motel?" Mikey asked after a moment, breaking the first few minutes of silence.

"No, let's sleep in the back of the car again, that was a fun experience," I joked, grinning as Gerard rolled his eyes at me.

"Ew, please tell me you two didn't have sex where we're sitting."

"It would be fun to lie and say we did, but sadly, no," I said, trying not to laugh at the face Mikey was pulling.

"You're so gross."

"Thanks," I said, giving him a big smile, the disgusting look not having shifted from his face. We hadn't talked together properly since that first night at their parents house, when we talked about Gerard, and had hardly even acknowledged that the conversation had happened. I had wanted to talk to Gerard about it, too, but I'd never managed to. He seemed so happy now, and it felt like I'd be accusing him of something, and it would tell him that me and Mikey had been talking about him behind his back, which I doubt he'd want to know. I wished I could just ignore it and hope it was nothing, or that Gerard would keep getting better, but I knew I couldn't. This could be something serious, so I'd have to ask him at some point if he's okay, but  _when_ was the problem. _  
_

I ended up not having to worry about deciding when, because the opportunity ended up presenting itself a few days later, when a group of us went out to celebrate new years.

"Hey, have you seen Gerard?" Mikey asked, appearing next to me, where I was sitting at the bar with Ray.

"Uh, he was with Patrick a while ago, I dunno where they are though."

"Fuck," Mikey mumbled, looking even more distressed, and turned, about to walk off again before I grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"What is it? Has anything happened?"

"I dunno, I just haven't seen him all night and I expected him to be clinging to you, you have no idea how much sappy romantic shit he's told me he loves on new years. I'll text you if I find him," he said, disappearing into the crowd again.

"Is Gerard, like, I dunno, getting better?" Ray asked after a few moments of me just staring after Mikey.

"I thought so, but then me and Mikey talked, and he says he's been weird lately, and I don't know anymore, really."

"Have you talked to him?"

"I was going to, but I don't know  _how_. Like, how do you even bring that up? I don't want to upset him, or accuse him of anything and I just- ugh," I said, running a hand through my hair, "everything had been going fine and I  _thought_ he was okay, and now what if he's not? I mean, how shit of a boyfriend must I be if I don't notice that he's still depressed or still struggling." _  
_

"You don't know that he's not okay, and if something is wrong, he might've been trying to hide it, you know Mikey said he had been before."

"I wish he  _didn't_ think he had to hide it though. I wish he could trust me enough to be able to  _tell_ me if somethings wrong."

"I'm sure he does trust you, Frank."

I shrugged, not knowing how to feel about any of this, "I should help Mikey find him," I said, getting up off the stool and was about to start pushing my way through the crowd when Patrick stepped out of it, stopping in front of me.

"You need to come, like, now," he said, grabbing my arm and starting to drag me back in the direction he'd came from.

"What happened?" I asked as we moved across the room, "Is it Gerard?"

Patrick nodded, and I barely saw it through the other people pressing against up from each side, dancing and moving, "We found him. He was, uh, asking for you."

He led me a bit further, until we reached the bathroom doors, leading me through them too. They were empty, except for Mikey, kneeling down by the far wall, in front of Gerard, who was sitting on the floor cross-legged, playing with the laces on his boots.

"Gerard?" I asked when I saw him, not sure what Patrick was so worried about at first glance. Gerard looked up the second he heard me, his face breaking into a huge smile, his eyes meeting mine, hazy and distant.

He let out a short, high-pitched giggle, "Hey, Frankie," he said, trying to push himself up off of the floor, almost slipping and falling on Mikey, who ended up stabilising him.

"God," I said, moving over to him and bending down, trying to help him up properly.

He shook his head, "Just call me Gee," he said, giggling again at his own joke.

"How much has he drunk?" I asked Mikey, trying to stop Gerard from falling over again.

Mikey shook his head, "I don't know. Too much."

"Not enough," Gerard corrected.

I sighed, "Come on, you need to go home."

"Mm-hmm, good idea," he said, his words starting to slur, "want  _you_ ," he whispered in my ear, all too loudly, and I felt him press against my side, half-hard through his jeans against my hip.

I tried not to pull away too quickly, feeling heat rushing to my cheeks, "Let's get a taxi," I said, looking at Mikey with a questioning look, who nods, and follows us out of the bathroom, with Patrick.

Pete stopped us halfway to the front door of the place, having a whispered conversation with Mikey, which I could barely make out.

"I've gotta go home and make sure he's okay," I heard Mikey say, after some incomprehensible things.

"You're  _always_ making sure he's okay. You're gonna wear yourself out, Mikes, you shouldn't have to have this kind of responsibility. He's got Frank, now, he can take him home and look after him, okay? You need to relax, for  _once_ ," Pete told him.

I heard Mikey sigh in response, "Okay," he said to Pete, then turned to me, "is it-? Can you make sure he's okay? Are you okay with taking him home?"

"Yeah, I'll call you if anything happens," I said, "Pete's right," I added, just before I turned to leave, Gerard still clinging on next to me, "you need to relax, don't think about Gerard, okay? He'll be fine."

Mikey just nodded, looking unsure of himself, then I did turn and walk back out, practically dragging Gerard with me, mumbling incomprehensible things next to me.

I hailed a cab amazingly quickly, especially for New Years Eve, and managed to get Gerard in next to me, without him complaining or trying to jump me.

"It might take a while," the driver warns as we get in, "traffic's always crap."

"Yeah, it's fine, it's not too far," I said, giving him the address of our apartment building.

 

Gerard spent most of the ride drunkenly rambling, not making much sense, curled up against my side, head resting on my shoulder.

"'know what?" he asked after he had been quiet for a while, and I tried not to sigh, not really wanting any more of his weird drunk ideas or opinions.

"What?" I asked, taking one of his hands and tracing patterns on it, trying to hopefully distract him.

"I hate that I do this," he said, slurring a bit less, ever so slightly more understandable, but still getting my attention. "I keep trying so  _hard_ , I don't  _want_ to do this. I wish I could get better," he mumbled.

"I don't wanna disappoint Frank," he said suddenly after going silent again, and I stayed quiet, not correcting him that I  _am_ Frank, "He doesn't- he doesn't deserve this. He shouldn't have to put up with me doing stupid stuff all the time. He's trying so hard to help and I'm just being an idiot and won't let myself  _get better_."

"Gee, you can do this, I know you're trying your best, it's just hard," I told him, moving one hand to stroke his hair.

He shook his head against my shoulder, "I could try harder, I know I could. But I don't and Mikey suffers 'cause of me and Frank does too and I just wish I could be better for them."

"It doesn't matter, Gee, we don't care how hard it is. We don't care if we have to stay up till 4 am with you if you're going through something tough. We just care that  _you're_ okay. That's all."

He shook his head again, curling up further against me, "I just wanna get better, Frank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finally finished all of my exams so now I'll hopefully be able to update (fairly) often now

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Quiet is Overrated](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725098) by [aintitfun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintitfun/pseuds/aintitfun)




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